Iscariot
by Jimmy Candlestick
Summary: He was trusted. Perhaps, the most trusted of them all.
1. Chapter 1

**Dear Friends,**

**This is a late entry into "OH MY HEAVENS THERE'S A MOLE I MUST WRITE STORY ABOUT IT!" unofficial competitions. While I am 99.99% certain that the character I have chosen isn't the mole (I'm pretty sure it's Roy. I could be wrong.), this is a fun little challenge, and I felt up to it, despite having quite a few other projects I need to work on.**

**I am also aware that the mole is soon to be revealed (if not this Saturday, then the next), making this story almost irrelevant. So, I thank you for reading it. **

**Sincerely, Jimmy Candlestick. **

**...**

**Okay, a few notes. Yes, this is a Robin-is-the-mole story. No, I haven't read the others, so, I apologize if you think I copied off of you. Seeing as how I've been rushing, it's got a few rough spots, so, again, I apologize. Barbara is an almost-integral part of this story, but, she's not in long. Sorry. No Batgirl here.**

**Also, Zatanna will be appearing, however, since I don't have a full grasp on how to write her, she won't be "seen" much. And, Red Arrow has not yet joined the team, since I started this before he joined. I do hope to have chapter 3 posted by Friday, since I've written up to chapter 5. **

**That's all. Read on, and enjoy. :)**

* * *

Dick was staring intently at the book. His eyes never moved, though, periodically, he turned the page. Study hall was only forty-five minutes long, but Barbara Gordon never failed to notice that he seemed to read half of a book – without fail – every single day. And the books were never the same, she dutifully noted.

The first time he did this, Barbara didn't think much of it. She couldn't even remember what that first book was. Dick was a smart kid, there was no denying it. Sure, he was practically always bubbling over with his energy, but, when he really wanted, the boy could sit still and get things done with a certain speed and focus that she found herself quite jealous of.

Yet, after the fourth or fifth time of getting half-way through a book by the end of study hall, the Commissioner's daughter began to notice. And by the tenth time, she was writing the "clues" down in a notebook.

"_Babs, if you ever notice anything out of the ordinary, write it down,"_ her dad would say. He meant criminal activity, but, that didn't mean it had to be restricted to that.

She looked at her notes. Today's book was "Roget's Thesaurus." When she saw him pick it up, Babs had her doubts about writing it down – and certainly about it being abnormal. She knew about Dick's penchants for words more than anyone else in the school. This penchant normally urged him to share new found words with anyone that would listen (which was usually everyone, given the boy's ability to charm almost anyone into befriending him), and so, when, after the first page or so, Dick didn't smile, chuckle, or share with her his new favorite word, she quickly changed her mind and wrote it down.

Her list was long and full of boring books – even for a genius like Dick. Yesterday was Biology. The day before that was "The History of Nuts and Bolts for the Young Engineer." Though, some were interesting, like Jules Verne's "Journey to the Center of the Earth", and Alexander Dumas' "The Three Musketeers."

The most disturbing, she found, was the book on weaponry. That, in itself wasn't a disturbing book. Except that this one was on guns. Barbara wasn't an idiot, and she certainly wasn't clueless. And even though the subject wasn't covered much in gossip magazines (not that she read those much), she knew that Bruce Wayne hated guns of any kind, and she knew why.

She cleared her throat. "Find any interesting words?"

Dick didn't so much as twitch in response.

She bit her lip, turning away. "I'll take that as a 'no', then."

Babs tried to focus in on her own book. Tried, being the keyword here. She jotted a few things down, glanced up as Dick turned another page without really looking, and then back down at her notebook. She pursed her lips. _Hm._ Tearing the corner off, she balled it up and took aim. Flicking it with her paper, she watched the little missile fly quickly through the air and bounce off Dick's face, right above the eyebrow.

Again, he didn't so much as twitch.

Barbara huffed, only to stiffen as a large hand rested itself on her shoulder. She looked up to see the Study Hall 'teacher' – who was also the football coach – standing just behind her.

"Miss Gordon, there's a reason it's called _Study _Hall. Try to not to use it for little flirting games. I'd hate to bring this to the attention of your father."

Biting back a retort – _I'm not flirting _or _playing a game –_ Barbara nodded with a polite, "Yes, Mr. Henson, it won't happen again."

Giving an approving nod, the man walked off.

With a dejected sigh, and one last despairing look thrown at her oblivious friend, she settled back to "study." Until un-minted breath, hot and heavy, was being exhaled right by her ear.

"Can I help you?" She asked quietly.

"Babs, I'll get Dick's attention for you, if you want." Tom's voice really sounded less helpful and friendly and more conniving and...needy?

"I doubt that."

"Naw, really, I can get his attention."

Barbara looked sideways turning her head just a bit. Though, any more, she realized, and it would be decidedly awkward. "Why do you want to do that for me?"

She could just barely make out Tom's grin. "Can't a guy be chivalrous anymore?"

"I'm all for chivalry, Tom, but, I feel like there's an underlying motive, here. What do you want?"

"Will you say 'yes' if I get his attention?"

"To what?"

"Just tell me if you'll say 'yes'!"

"I'm not going to say anything until you say what it is you want."

"I don't want to tell you, right now. Just say 'yes,' and I'll get Grays- Dick's attention for you."

Barbara looked back down at her notes. "And I'm not saying anything until I know. If you really want an answer this badly, just get his attention, and then tell me what it is." She looked back up. "If you can get his attention, I'll be in much more of a mood to say yes."

Tom sighed, and Babs closed her eyes as his breath came even heavier onto her ear. Does he not know of personal space?

But then he got up, only after glancing at Mr. Henson, and made his way to the chair next to Dick's. Sitting down, with Babs watching carefully, he leaned over to the boy. "Hey, Dick. You in there?"

No response.

"C'mon, man, you can't tell me you're not hearing me. I know you're not trying to stay out of trouble. You're not _that _good of a kid." He didn't see Barbara's eyes narrow dangerously. "You thinkin' about anything special? Like, oh, I dunno...a circus?" His eyes flitted down to the page. It was the word 'death' that caught his eye. "Maybe you're parents?"

"Tom!" Barbara hissed.

The boy ignored her. "You know, I can't even begin to imagine what that would've been like. Seeing all of your family lying there, surrounded by their blood..."

Dick's hand trembled a little where it rested on the table. He blinked.

"Tom, stop it!" Barbara begged him.

But Tom really wanted that 'yes.' "Woulda been really gross. Probably really scary too, watching them fall. Down, down, down from the trapeze. And then, there they would be, all twisted around. They're necks probably woulda looked funny, being broken an' all-"

"SHUT UP!" Dick roared, standing suddenly, pulling back his fist before he sent it flying at Tom's face.

The whole room jumped up at the yell, and everyone heard the crunch of Tom's nose as Dick's fist hit it. Tom went down, and Dick pounced on him, hitting the boy for all he was worth.

"Dick, stop it!" Barbara screamed at him, her eyes wide. "Stop, you're hurting him really bad!"

Dick didn't hear her, though. He just kept hitting and hitting, until Mr. Henson was able to tear him off, and even then, the young acrobat was yelling, wiggling and kicking, while Tom lay still on the floor, his face bloodied and battered.

_That, _Barbara realized with a cold feeling settling into her, _Was a really, _really, _bad idea._

* * *

**__Well...how was it? Yeah, this won't be a masterpiece. Unless it will be. Then that'd be a nice. But, please, leave a comment, let me know how it's goin'. All that jazz. -Jimmy C.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, my new favorite thing about multi-chapter fics is that I can respond to anonymous reviews!**

**abbycat- Me too. Sort of. Mostly because I can relate to wanting to snap. Except that I can't pummel a guy's face...slightly sad day. :P**

**Chupo- I have not seen the leaks. I refuse to see the leaks. If anyone tells me what happens, I will hunt them down and make them wish they hadn't said a word. That's all. :)**

**Thanks everyone! I really do love getting reviews. Makes meh happy. :) On to the next chapter!**

* * *

Dick shaded his eyes with his hand, glumly staring at the principle's closed office door. He felt like crying. Or at least that he should be crying. Tom's face was bloodied and bruised by the time he was done, and that terrified Dick. As soon as he saw it, he started apologizing, over and over again. All of his classmates looked scared of him – even Barbara.

He sniffed and shook his head, trying to think of something else. Anything else. Even the rhythm of his throbbing headache became a slight obsession.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

"Mr. Wayne, this is highly unusual behavior for Richard, I know, but it can't be ignored simply because of it being so unusual."

Bruce repressed a frustrated sigh. "And I understand this, Principle Hodges."

The balding man nodded. He may have been facing the most powerful man in Gotham, but he was still a principle, and he wasn't about to let that take second place to money. Even if the 'money' was the man who played a major role in getting him this job. "I'm afraid I may have to suspend him."

Bruce nodded slowly. This wasn't news he wanted to hear – it wasn't news any guardian or parent would want to hear – and Principle Hodges knew this. It was why Bruce worked so hard to have this man in this positions; he wouldn't be pushed around by status. "I understand. I'll have a talk with Dick about this. You just let me know."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne."

They both stood and shook hands, but before Bruce left the room he asked, "How is the boy?"

Hodges gave him a steady look. "They took Tom to hospital, but that's all I know."

"Let the parents know that I'd be more than willing to pay the bill."

Principle Hodges gave an amused snort. "They're pretty well off themselves, Mr. Wayne, I don't think the bill would be a problem for them."

"That may be, but, it also may help amend the situation."

A knowing nod was Principle Hodges' only reply as Bruce opened the door and left.

His ward was massaging his forehead, though that was interrupted by a wince when his head jerked up to focus his worried eyes on Bruce.

"Am I suspended?" Dick asked as they entered the school hallway.

"Possibly. He still has a final decision to make."

Dick looked down. "Okay."

Students were walking, or running, to their last classes of the day. When they saw Bruce and Dick exiting the school's office area, many gave open, gawking stares, or paused slightly. Few of them took notice of the man, but all of them made sure to look the boy's way. Even their conversations toned down upon sight.

While Dick kept his shamed gaze on the floor right in front of his steps, Bruce surreptitiously studied his surroundings. Most of the girls were whispering excitedly with one another, while the boys would simply nudge each other and maybe say a word or two. He saw Artemis with a group of friends (he hoped, at least, in the back of his mind) glancing between the duo and her own company. But it was Barbara Gordon who had him meeting eyes outright.

Placing a gentle hand on his ward's shoulder, Bruce said, "Dick, go on out to the car, will you? I'll be right behind you."

Dick looked up, startled and puzzled, even after Bruce's nod to the boy's bathroom. Shrugging, he walked off, and it didn't escape Bruce's notice when the kids gave him a wide berth.

Once the boy was far enough off – not that it would have mattered, Bruce suspected, with his slumped figure – the man caught Barbara's gaze again, and followed the red head as she turned the corner.

The corridors were emptying as she led him to one that was completely without busy students. It was an light and airy hallway, with massive windows that faced the courtyard, letting the afternoon light stream through. A good, private, but not compromising area, Bruce noted with a slight smirk. _Jim Gordon, I hope you're proud._

Barbara stopped and turned around to face him. "Mr. Wayne?"

"Yes, Miss Gordon?"

She shifted from food to foot, chewing on her lip. "How's Dick doing?"

Bruce cocked an eyebrow. "He'll be fine. He's a little upset, but I think he'll be fine."

She nodded decisively. "Good."

He furrowed his brow. "Is there something you needed to discuss with me, Miss Gordon?"

Her blue eyes were wide with worry. "Yeah, look. He's been acting really weird, lately. I mean, not as weird as randomly attacking Tom." She paused. "Though, Tom kinda had it coming. He _was _saying some things-"

"Miss Gordon." Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Please, focus."

"Right, sorry. Anyways, For the past...I dunno, for weeks – no, months, for months Dick's been super quiet in Study Hall."

Bruce opened his mouth, but was quickly shushed by the girl.

"Now, before you say that's the point, just remember that Dick is never completely silent. Like, ever."

After a moment, Bruce nodded his consent.

"Anyways, he's been really quiet, all through Study Hall, and picking really random books and just looking at them. It's almost like he's in a trance, or something, until Study Hall is over, and then he's normal again. Well, except for the headaches."

Bruce held up a hand. "_Looking _at them? Like they're picture books?"

Barbara's expression turned thoughtful. "Yeah, kind of. Kind of similar to how little kids will pick up their books before they can read and turn the pages. Except, these aren't picture books. I can tell he's not reading them. And they're all random. Here," she pulled out a sheet of paper from her notebook. "I've written down a list of some of the books he's read. At least the one's since I realized how weird he's been."

Bruce took it. "Thank you."

Barbara sighed lightly. "I know you're a business man, and a really busy one, but, this is kind of a big deal."

Bruce smiled, and started to turn away. "I know, Miss Gordon."

"No," she stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. "I don't mean that lightly. I'm sure you get that it's not something little from what happened today, but, you need to understand. This is bizarre." She glanced around, even though they were alone. "I know the press doesn't bother themselves with this information much, it's really something Dick's mentioned in passing, but, I know you don't like guns. And I only bring this up because that's what one of the books was about."

Bruce stiffened, though he tried not to. "I see."

"Yeah, that one."

"You mentioned headaches, too."

Barbara nodded her head. "After every Study Hall. He gets done 'reading' the book, and starts rubbing his head. Whenever I ask him about it, he just brushes it off saying it's nothing, just a little headache, and that he'll" she used her fingers for air quotes, "'manage.'" She stopped, looking out the window, folding her arms against her body. She chewed on her lip, blinked and continued. "I'm worried, Mr. Wayne. And, I know you're not really a detective, and I know I shouldn't be telling you what to do, but, if you could at least take some time to hang out with him, figure out what's going on."

Bruce nodded. "I'll figure it out. Thank you."

Barbara visibly relaxed, and even managed a bit of a smile.

Bruce straightened up. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

She shrugged. "It's art class. The teacher is really lax about getting there on time, something about one's own creative aura art not something you can confine to time, and so shouldn't be treated as such." She turned to leave, waving a hand as she walked off, leaving the man alone.

Folding up the paper, Bruce tucked it in his jacket pocket and went to the car.

Getting in, he glanced at Dick, who was sitting still, somber as he had been in the principle's office. Starting the car, Bruce shifted gears and started driving. It wasn't until they were half-way to the manor that he said a word.

"Why'd you do it, Dick?"

Dick breathed in, looking up. "I don't know, Bruce." His voice was quiet. "I don't even remember doing it."

Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"I'm..." Dick went silent.

Bruce stopped at the light, and then turned to the boy. "What is it, Dick?"

Dick looked down, almost curling in on himself. "I'm scared, Bruce. It seems like, for a while now, I don't remember anything from Study Hall. I know I sit and read, but, I don't remember any of the books. It's like my mind goes blank."

The light turned green, and Bruce pressed down on the accelerator.

"Okay." His mind instantly reached for the list of books in his pocket, the words of Barbara Gordon going through his mind. _It's almost like he's in a trance. _"Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

"Please." Dick looked at him with trusting eyes. "Please, let's do it fast. I can't stand it."

* * *

**I will apologize for stilted dialog, or anything that felt out of place. It's what happens when you're in a rush, and come up with new things to add to the story after you've written a chapter. I do hope you liked this one, though. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter was difficult to write...no lie. Italics with quote marks are flashbacks, italics without are thought conversations. :)**

**So everything until the break - it wasn't before? Sad day... ;)**

**Chupo - I don't believe in giving out spoilers. Read on, my friend, read on!**

**Also. I saw the previews for tomorrow's episode. I'm excited. Looks like it'll be a two parter. Hot. Dog.**

* * *

Robin walked into Mount Justice, pleasant – yet mischievous – smile plastered onto his face.

"_So, am I grounded?"_

Most of the team was already there. Wally, Zatanna, M'gann, Conner, Kaldur...but, no Artemis. He nearly cringed at the thought of her coming.

"_You may go be with the team. However, while on suspension, you'll have to wait until normal hours to go there. Artemis is smarter than some may give her credit. We'll need her – and everyone else – to think everything's normal."_

Artemis would've definitely heard about this. Gotham Academy may be a school for the elite, and those with scholarships, but that certainly didn't mean it wasn't less full of gossip hounds than other schools.

"_She wasn't in that class, was she?"_

And when he and Bruce had left the office, everyone was between classes. He knew that they had passed her locker, so she must have been in the hallway, studying him along with everyone else, when they walked through. Awesome.

"_Artemis? No, it was just my freshman class."_

He plastered on his face his customary smirk as he approached his teammates, with Wally urgently relating the latest victory of Flash and Kid Flash in Central City. Which, Robin noted, was at it's end.

"...So, the moral of the story is: don't get wasted, 'cuz you can't swim then." Wally's posture deflated slightly. "You know what's frustrating, though? The kid was from my school."

M'gann gently touched his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Wally. That must have been hard."

The red offered a weaker than normal smile. "Yeah. I mean, Kid Flash couldn't show it. But, it's so..." he waved his hands in the air, "aggravating. I didn't really know the guy, but, it still feels like some sort of betrayal when someone you see all the time goes and does something like that." His hand went up to hold his other arm.

Robin stopped in his tracks, the strangest sense of dread and pain starting to swirl within his chest. He tried to shake it off, but it stayed with an iron will.

M'gann started, turning around, a brief flash of trepidation and fear on her face, before she lit up at the sight of him. "Robin! I didn't even hear you come in!"

The others turned to greet him.

The Boy Wonder laughed, waving her off. "I guess Wally's story was so," he grinned, "_tracting, _you couldn't be _dis_tracted by the sound of my entrance."

Wally straightened up in a flash, pointing a finger at his friend, with a knowing smile on his face. "I see what ya did there!"

M'gann kept a smile on her face – properly amused – but, Robin was sure he saw it waver.

"_Recognized, Artemis, B-07." _

"Hey, Artemis! How was your day?"

Robin couldn't help but notice the subtle added bounce to her step, as the blond archer responded to M'gann's inquiry. "It was surprisingly enjoyable. Probably would've been more enjoyable if I saw the actual fight, but hearing about it definitely helped."

Wally's interest was piqued. "There was a fight? Like, a big one?"

Artemis shrugged. "Big enough. It was two freshman during Study Hall, and, apparently, it was the smaller one who attacked first." She stopped short of the training pad. "Shoulda seen the kids face, too. I've never seen so much damage done to a guy's face _at _school."

Robin barely suppressed a wince.

"What do you suppose started it?" Aqualad asked.

"Honestly? I have no idea. It's – _they _aren't exactly the type of kids to have at it with each other _outside _ of school, let alone _in _it." Her eyebrows raised in slight excitement. "Especially the smaller kid. Everybody likes him," she hesitated. "He's a bit weird, but, everyone likes him all the same. One of the smart kids, too, kind of geeky, _never _would've expected a fight out of him."

Robin hung back, looking away, swallowing harshly at her words. A sharp pain suddenly pierced his skull, causing him to wince.

M'gann glanced in his direction. _Robin? Are you alright?_

Ignoring the pain, Robin shot a look at her. _I'm fine. Why are you asking? _He frowned slightly. _You weren't reading my thoughts without permission, were you?_

She backpedaled quickly. _No, no! It's just...I don't normally feel such strong emotions coming from you. Are you sure everything's okay?_

He smiled weakly, resisting the urge to hold his head. _Yeah, there's nothing to worry about. I promise._

All communication was suddenly shut down, as the screen lit up behind them. It was Batman. "I have an assignment that calls for immediate action."

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

"While this new information proves insightful, I'm afraid you were too eager to maintain harvesting, today, and behaved like an impetuous, naïve, _rookie._" The words slid off his tongue bitterly, as if they were too low for him to even speak.

Psimon glared at the older man in disgust. "I was _not _acting on impetuous desires."

"No? Then what? What information did he have that you sought to glean from him?"

"Only that which would prove useful to The Light."

The man was rigid. "I specifically told you to stay away from such information."

Psimon though briefly of the consequences of his speaking so directly to his superior. Briefly. "Which is fascinating, considering I would have thought that The Light would find it helpful if he, whom you would consider to be the League's most powerful member, was exposed, and, therefore, taken down quickly."

There was a deep inhale, and then a deep exhale. The words were spoken with deep and dark intentions. "I will admit that I had been very impressed with your ability, so far, to accept that I would place you in one area, blindfolded, and seek only what I asked of you. It made you a valuable asset to our goals. But you are overstepping your bounds, Psimon, and doing so creates dire consequences."

Psimon chuckled arrogantly. "Tell me, _master, _did you really think that one with psychic powers, such as myself, would be capable of having 'bounds?'"

"Certainly," he leaned closer. "When they are serving _my purposes._"

Psimon smirked and spit at the man's feet. "I am hardly your servant. I am loyal to my queen, and no one else."

His smirk fell away as he withered under the man's singular gaze. "Your _beloved queen _falls under my superiority. Her authority is useless in the face of my commands. Obey my instructions without question, and I will at least leave you unharmed."

Psimon risked a further comment. "What is keeping me from gathering more information, and sharing it? After all, as a psychic," he tapped his head knowingly, "I can pass such information without your knowledge."

"Do you think I am without resources, Psimon? I tell you, I will know the moment you think of such things, and, when I do," his face darkened with wicked delight, "you, _Psychic, _will know the full extent of my wrath, and you will fear me like you have never feared before."

Psimon barely restrained a shudder. The emphatic feelings coming from the man opposite him were stronger than even that martian girl had given off – which had been alarming at best for a psychic. He bowed respectfully, and retreated quickly.

The man sighed and leaned back in his chair. He respected his chief adversary far too much to let that creature Queen Bee employed even touch such aspects of the boy's mind. He couldn't ignore that Psimon was a wild card in his own right, and would be hard to control, eventually. But, he could deal with that. He would have a plan for such an event.

Because, Ra's al Ghul was never ill prepared.

* * *

**It was the second half that gave me so much trouble. Guys. I am so bad at writing villains. Review, please. -Jimmy C.**

**P.s. I should mention, updates won't be as quick after this guy. I hope not to take too long, but, it won't be every other day. That's all. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wait. I haven't uploaded this one yet? Hm. Goes to show how much I actually know about my own work. ;)**

**So everything until the break - Oh. Okay. :) I hope I keep satisfying, then.**

**Chupo- We shall see...**

**You guys are really good at making me second guess what I'm doing. And then I remember. Haha! I'm awful. Anyways, I'd like to take this moment and say, I totally called the mole. Yes, I know, I'm a genius. *bows* Also, I'm pumped for "Invasion" It's gonna be amazing. **

**Okay. Go. Read this chapter. **

* * *

Batman glared at the screen of teenage heroes set before him. "As you know, Hugo Strange is the current head of Belle Reve, which holds the nation's most powerful villains – including the ice villains believed to have been behind the ice machines that covered the entire country in snow just a few weeks ago."

"But," Wally interrupted. "Flash said that Strange said that they never left their cells."

The Dark Knight narrowed his eyes at the junior speedster. "Yes, that is what he _said._"

"Except, you don't believe him." Robin said, Batman noting his smirk.

"No. I don't. Which is why I need you to infiltrate the building and retrieve some intel for me."

He saw M'gann and Conner exchanged glances before the girl spoke up. "Conner and I did that, already, a-and that ended..." she looked down. "Well, successful, but, poorly."

"Which is why I'm not asking you to infiltrate _as _anyone. It will be an extremely covert assignment, tonight, with you entering, gathering intel from Strange's personal computer – and the security footage – and then leaving, without a commotion." His glare intensified. "This _will _be a purely covert ops assignment. You will do _nothing_ extra than what I have instructed. Understood?"

From the looks most of the team exchanged – with moderate subtlety – Batman knew his underlying message had gotten through: _Don't make this another Santa Prisca._

Kaldur answered for the team. "We understand. However, this assignment does not seem to require the entire team."

Batman nodded. "Robin will be the one to retrieve the actual intel. Miss Martian, and you, Aqualad, are to accompany him inside the building. The rest of the team will be on standby, should anything go drastically wrong."

The microphones picked up on Wally's mutterings. "Key word here, being, 'drastically.'"

Robin nodded slightly in response, his smirk still planted on his face, but lessened.

"Yes, _drastically._"

Wally's eyes widened in surprise when Batman restated the word.

"Should something simply go wrong, the chances of three getting out of trouble alone are better than four coming to their rescue. Therefore, you are cautioned to use the utmost discretion in such a situation. Kaldur."

The Atlantean looked up.

"I expect you to initiate their entrance should you need assistance."

"Of course, Batman. May I ask what, specifically, we are looking for?"

"As I said before, Hugo Strange had told the Flash and I that the major ice villains Belle Reve holds were in their cells in the event of the ice storms. However, I have been monitoring Strange, myself, and have noticed that his own work is not always...ethical. He's a brilliant psychologist, and understands quite well how the human mind works-"

"-Which makes him perfect for working at Belle Reve." Robin interrupted. "He looks credible on his resume to politicians who are looking to 'rehabilitate' major criminals rather than simply give them capital punishment."

Batman suppressed a sigh. "Exactly, Robin. However, as a man of his profession and intelligence, he knows how to keep a secret."

Zatanna spoke for the first time. "Are you saying that Strange could be in the league with the villains he's warden over?"

"It's feasible, yes."

"More than feasible," Robin said. "Since you're having us look into it."

The teens looked up curiously at the Dark Knight.

After a moment of consideration, he spoke. "Yes, I suppose I consider it more than feasible. I have strong suspicions about his character and motivations. That is why I am asking you to look into it. Any more questions?"

They shook their heads, silenced by his tone.

"Good." He gave them all one last look over. "You leave in half-an-hour."

He terminated the connection almost as soon as the last word had left his mouth. Pulling up another window, he resumed his own research.

A throat was cleared behind him.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"Master Bruce, if I'm not mistaken, that assignment had been a personal project of yours."

Bruce slid the cowl off, turning toward the butler. "It was."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "May I ask why, exactly, you gave it to them?"

This time, Bruce did sigh. "Why do you think, Alfred?"

"Well, I could be wrong," the older man clasped his hands in front of him. "But, I suspect it has something to do with young Master Dick's behavior today in school."

Bruce nodded. "It's so unusual for him, Alfred. As far as I knew, everyone loves Dick, and, in turn he gets along with everyone."

"Hm." Alfred agreed. Spotting a stray piece of notebook paper, he picked it up. "Practicing your girlish handwriting, are we?"

Bruce smiled. "No, Barbara Gordon gave that to me. It's a list of books she's noticed Dick reading during Study Hall."

The butler studied the list for a moment before speaking again. "If it weren't for the eclectic mix of books on this list, I would have thought it was merely a girl who had taken a fancy to a young boy and was simply making note of his likes."

"Exactly."

"And it _is _eclectic. Such a wide range. Dick certainly has some of these in his interests, but, they're far too..."

"Random."

"Yes, random. And some of them are odd."

"Like the one on guns?"

Alfred looked back up. "Yes. Though, I saw a different one that really caught my eye."

Bruce leaned forward. "Which one?"

"This one," Alfred pointed with his finger. "The one about the circus."

Bruce frowned. "I don't think it's that unusual. Dick has shown interest in others perception of the circus. He's shared with me a few times things he read that he thought were amusing because they were wrong."

"That may be true. But, this book." Alfred looked at the younger man again. "Did you read this list?"

"I haven't had the time, yet. I skimmed over it when Barbara gave it to me, and she really only noted the book on guns. She did hesitate after that, though. Why?"

"Because, this book on the circus. It's about the mysteries and tragedies of the circus."

"Tragedies?"

The butler leaned forward and typed the title and author into the computer. In just a moment the book was pulled up along with the summary. They read it in silence, together.

"It was only written about a year ago," Bruce murmured, passing a hand across his face in thought. "So it would include..." he typed in a few more commands, and was presently skimming through the pages. "It does."

"Oh my..." Alfred voiced behind him.

On the screen, large and bright, was a picture of the Flying Graysons, standing on a platform, about to perform. On another page, another picture: a blurry and poorly lit picture of bodies lying awkwardly on the ground, blood spread around them. The book Dick had picked up contained the death of his family.

"Master Bruce."

Bruce tore his gaze away from the computer to look at him.

"I don't think that it's him picking the books. I do believe that something is wrong."

* * *

**I. Am _so_ bad at suspense. I really think this ended weakly. Review? -Jimmy C.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Some of this feels...stilted. And OOC. It's like, there's a completely different mindset for writing characters when writing a multi-chapter fic than just a one-shot. Or, maybe it's just because all my one-shots tend to focus on one or two characters at once...hm.**

**Anyways, please enjoy. :)**

* * *

The pain in his head had dulled to near extinction, Robin was pleased to note, as they each settled in their seats in the bio-ship. It gave him room to think about their mission. It was...odd, in a sense. It was high-profile, but also quite lack-luster, compared to previous ones. Well. Compared to what previous assignments always ended up becoming.

The ship lifted quietly, the cockpit silent with thoughts. Clearly, no one was in the mood for speaking. They settled for watching the cave mouth spit them out, and the horizon come closer and closer, without them ever reaching it. The trip wouldn't be long, they knew. Belle Reve was only about an hour's flight away.

Aqualad turned around. "We must discuss a plan."

Kid Flash huffed, throwing his hands in the air. "Please! Batman was a little more sparse on the info than normal. Rob, you have any idea what's going on?"

The Boy Wonder gave a laugh. "I actually thought it was a little clearer than normal. He suspects Strange, wants some dirt on him, and that's it."

"Maybe that's why it feels so cryptic," Artemis said. "He's not normally so certain and specific on what he wants."

Robin pulled up a holographic image of Belle Reve's schematics on his glove's computer. "Eh, I think he is, you all just don't know it." He paused. "It's funny, though. I think I remember this being a pet project of his."

They looked at him in surprise.

"Seriously?" Kid voiced. "Like, seriously?"

"Yeah."

Miss Martian tried to not look anywhere but where her ship was headed, her focus suddenly becoming strained. "Batman trusts us to take on one of his own projects?"

"Looks like it."

Zatanna looked from face to face. "Wait. I thought _all_ of these were his projects."

"Well..." Robin shrugged. "In a way, I guess they are. But, they're really missions that, if the League wasn't so..."

"Famous?" She offered.

"Yeah, if they weren't so famous, they'd deal with it. But, in getting openly involved, that would create a huge political mess for them, and really put a damper on how the world views them."

"So they've employed us to run their errands and do their dirty laundry," Superboy spoke with obvious disgust.

Robin ignored him. "But, that's for the League. Batman wouldn't ask the League to act on his own suspicions unless it involves the immediate fate of the world. So, this is more of his own project."

"But, why is he asking us to do it?" Miss Martian questioned. "I mean, I feel honored that he thinks we're capable of something that he would do himself, but, why?"

The Boy Wonder sighed and went back to studying the schematics. "That's the one thing I don't know. I guess something came up that prioritized itself over this."

They fell silent again. But not for too long.

"Alright, I think I know how we can get in."

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Two bodies dropped onto the floor below, while the wall behind them shimmered, alluding to yet another's presence.

_We are in. _Aqualad's voice filtered into their conscience thoughts. _Remain on stand-by._

_Will do. _The sarcastic boredom was quite evident in Kid Flash's thoughts.

Robin winced at the voices, but said nothing. He could feel Miss Martian's concern toward him, and was thankful when _she_ said nothing.

_So, where are you guys?_

Robin gritted his teeth. _KF, you are on a need to know basis, so chill out!_

_Sorry, _he answered insincerely.

_Robin, _Aqualad began. _Are you alright?_

_Fine._

Miss Martian hesitated a bit before saying, _You don't...sound fine._

_Can we focus? _His throbbing head was making it hard enough for him to focus without their talking. And, besides, all their talking really only made it worse. _Okay, looks like we're in the east wing, which is... _he grinned. _Quite asterous. Looks like we're close to Strange's office. In fact, I do believe that it's right around the corner. _

_Excellent. Miss Martian, can you scan for guards?_

The Martian materialized to focus, her eyes glowing bright for a moment. _All clear._

_That doesn't mean too much,_ Robin commented as they moved along the hall. _With an IQ like that, Strange himself could know how to block a Martian's telepathy, which means that we'll have use extra caution when we get there._

_Wait!_ Miss Martian's warning rang clearly through their minds, causing the two others to halt sharply, while she reverted to camouflage.

Robin took in a quick breath, and flattened himself against the wall rather heavily. He winced, hoping it wasn't heavy.

_What is it? _Aqualad asked.

They could feel her move past them as she looked down the hall. _There's a guard right in front of Strange's office. _She moved back and re-materialized again.

_Where did he come from? _Robin asked, looking curiously at her.

She looked flustered. _I don't know. Maybe I didn't reach far enough._

_It doesn't matter,_ Aqualad said. _He's there now, and we need to distract him. Miss Martian?_

She nodded.

Robin pulled up the security cameras on his gauntlet computer, while she morphed into another guard. Aqualad crouched right at the corner, his water bearers at the ready.

Walking around the corner, Miss Martian quickened her pace, and then spoke. "There you are, is your radio not working?"

The other guard sounded disgruntled. "It's working fine, what do you want?"

"We've been trying to reach you. Super wants to see you."

"What? Why?"

"How should I know? He asked for you, and wants me to cover for you. He's in the north wing, first floor. Get your radio changed out, too."

With the camera pulled up, Robin saw the man sigh, mutter something, and then stalk away.

_Excellent work, Miss Martian._

The boys rounded the corner, just in time to see her morph back to her original form.

Robin made a beeline to Strange's door. _He's got an electronic lock. _

_Can't you hack into it?_

_Kid! _

_Dude, c'mon. _

Aqualad sighed. _Stop it. Robin, _can_ you hack into it?_

_Hold on. _The boy studied it. _Yes, but, these locks are keyed into a separate computer. Any entrance, or exit, is recorded and locked into the system. I can't erase the info from here, I'd have to go to the computer itself._

A feeling of dismay passed through the team.

Robin pulled up the schematics again, and a satisfied smirk made its way onto his face. _No worries, though. I've got ourselves another entrance._

_Where?_

Robin grinned at his leader, and looked up, ignoring the pain that was building behind his skull. _Air vents. One of my favorite paths of travel._

Miss Martian quickly flew up to the grate, loosing it and placing it inside the vent.

_Hacking into the motion sensors...done. The vents are clear._ Taking Miss Martian's hand, the two lifted into the confined area, while Aqualad leaped in after them, and placing the grate back into place.

Motioning for the other two to stay put, Robin crawled carefully and quietly to the grate that would place them right into Strange's office. Pulling out his optic cable, he hooked it up to his computer and looked around. _Clear._

He removed the grate and dropped down. He reached Strange's personal computer in seconds, and in moments four red Robins were four green Robins. _And, I'm in. _

Aqualad and Miss Martian dropped into the room and looked around. It wasn't sparse, but it felt open.

_Have you found anything, yet?_

_Gimme a sec. He's organized, but, not in a normal way. _His brow furrowed. _He's got weird files in here...I'm not even sure how their labeled. _He was quiet for a few minutes. _Here we go. I've got the security footage. Huh._

_What? _Miss Martian asked, placing herself behind the boy.

Robin flinched, waiting a moment to calm his pain before answering. _He's got separate files for the ice family videos. _

Aqualad looked over from his position by the door, concerned. _What do you mean?_

_Like, there are videos for the same day...wait. The day the ice machines covered the States. _

_You are still not being clear. Are you saying that he had footage to play for Batman and Flash, and he had the actual footage of the day?_

_Looks like. I'll download them both so we can-_

Aqualad stiffened suddenly. _I hear someone. _

Robin listened as he continued to work. Footsteps were coming down the hall. They stopped right in front of the door.

_Maybe it's the guard, _Miss Martian suggested.

The key pad chirped outside as the code was entered.

_We need to go._

_Gimme a second, I've got a few more things to get. _

_Now, Robin._

_Hold on. _

The chirping stopped.

_Got it._ The boy and the Martian rushed to the vent.

The door opened.

* * *

**I love it when you review. So. Much. :) -Jimmy C.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Don't normally use that sign, but, FF's acting weird with it's format. Anyways, just finished this one up today. It was...awkward to write. Especially the end. Hope you like it, though!**

* * *

Light poured through the door, gently shining into the vents just as Miss Martian slowly levitated the grate into place. The three sat as still as possible, crouching in place, barely daring to breathe – and not even daring to communicate, as if their very thoughts could be heard.

Robin craned his head forward, the throbbing ache quick and steady, straining for a glance. He relaxed. _It's just the janitor. _

Three individual feelings of relief flooded together. Robin quietly buried his face in his hands, the rush a little too much. They listened closely as the custodian took his time vacuuming the carpet, the rise and fall of the machines loud hum as it rolled back and forth, back and forth.

_Don't you guys have everything you need?_ Kid Flash's voice rang harshly through their thoughts.

Robin winced, the throbbing in his head increasing at the sudden noise.

It didn't help when Aqualad responded, _I am unsure. Robin?_

He could feel his companion's gazes fall upon him, and tried to conjure up enough concentration to answer them. But not before they voiced their concern.

_Robin?_ Miss Martian's soft voice floated gratingly through his head. _Robin, are you alright?_

_My friend, is something the matter?_

He was vaguely – though, not quite vaguely enough – aware of their looking through their own memories, trying to remember if he had been injured that night.

_Dude, something wron-_

_Wally, shut up!_

And then silence reigned long enough for Robin to sigh in sweet respite of the strong throbbing in his head. He focused on the sounds of the janitor emptying the small trash can by the desk, and then the footsteps that led to the door, and the clicking of the lock sliding back in place.

_Sorry, I just really needed you guys to be quiet. _The throbbing intensified again, but, he was able to ignore it. _I think I've got everything...but, there was something that caught my eye. _He has said this as he removed the grate again, slipping back down into the dark room. _If you guys could do me a favor, though, and not bother me unless it's an emergency, I'd appreciate it._

He felt Miss Martian slipping out of his consciousness as he walked back to the computer. His head ache vaporized, and he enjoyed the silence. This would only take a moment.

Quickly pulling up the files he wanted, Robin scanned over them, swiftly finding the one he was looking for. It was labeled "The Light." _Now, why would Strange have something on his computer about light. Unless it had _nothing _to do with light. _He grinned quietly to himself, opening it and hooking his gauntlet up to the computer.

He was quickly interrupted.

_Robin, someone his coming. _Aqualad's voice shot through his head, bringing the ache back with it.

At the door, the keypad was chirping again.

With an annoyed growl, Robin canceled the download, and ran to the vent. Miss Martian's hand was reaching down, and with a quick jump and grab, she was hoisting him up into the vents. Aqualad was kneeling at the vent on the other side, and, waiting for the door to open, Miss Martian and the Boy Wonder darted toward him.

_Who is it?_

_I did not recognize him. But, I know it was not Strange, and I know it was not another janitor. _Aqualad rushed the information past them.

Pulling out his optic cable again, Robin checked the hallways. _Clear. Let's go._

The exit itself was easy enough, though slower than their entry. Tension was high, and Robin didn't miss the concerned glances Miss Martian and Aqualad were throwing his way every few minutes. And, while everyone's chatter had become quiet and reserved (though, he easily felt Kid's disgruntled emotions in the back of his mind), his head still ached, and so he found himself giving bits of his concentration to his ability to remain stealthy.

And, privately, he managed to hide to himself his own little countdown to the end of this mission.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Kid Flash couldn't keep the concerned/relieved/angry/annoyed look off his face when the trio made it back to the bio-ship. He tried to make eye contact with Robin, but the boy seemed to be completely oblivious of his gaze. He wasn't fooled.

_Don't ignore me._

Robin turned on his heel with an angry, "Shut up! I can ignore you if I want!"

Aqualad gently touched Miss Martian's arm, and she swiftly ended the mind link.

Everyone watched Robin flop into his chair. With a sigh, he rubbed his face with one hand, visibly relaxed. "Sorry, KF. I didn't mean to snap."

Kid nodded. "No problem. You okay?"

The boy waved them off with his other hand. "Fine. Just tired." He straightened up and faced them. A look of confusion swept over his face. "Why is everyone staring at me?"

The team quickly shuffled back to their seats, shrugging and letting the ginger answer. "No reason. Just , you know...being...us."

"That makes sense. You all _always_ stare at one person at one time."

"Watch the sarcasm, _boy blunder._

Robin just chuckled and finally turned back to watch the window.

The others looked at each other. A nod from Miss Martian, and they were all linked again – all but Robin.

_Did something happen?_ Wally glanced between the Martian and the Atlantean.

Aqualad shook his head. _Nothing. Nothing that I am aware of, at least. _

_You know, _Miss M chimed in, _he's been acting a little strange all day. I couldn't help but feel...unrest from him when he first walked into the cave. It was so weird, it came in waves._

_Unrest? _Superboy questioned.

_Yeah, like, guilt. Something was bothering him, and, I know I shouldn't, but, I _did _delve in a little deeper. _

Artemis fixed her with a stare. _And?_

Zatanna joined in eagerly, glancing at Robin. _What did you find out? _

Miss Martian's sigh filled their minds, resonating deeply. _Nothing. He had vague feelings and notions, but, nothing. The only thing that's been consistent with him is pain. _

_What sort of pain? _Zatanna asked, now turning fully to face the green girl.

_Physical. But, it didn't really have a point of origin. _

_So, _Wally looked worryingly at his best friend. _He's injured? And, you're not sure how? _He looked back at the rest of the team. _Should we be worried?_

_Like you already aren't?_

_Artemis,_ Aqualad's voice of reason rang clearly and ominously through their thoughts. _This isn't the time. _He turned his attention back to the subject at hand. _Should we be telling Batman?_

Miss Martian shook her head. _It's not really an injury. It's more of a headache._

Wally started. _That could mean he had a head injury!_

Again, she shook her head. _No, I'm a bit familiar with those sorts of pains, and this definitely wasn't it. It was...something else. Something..._she hesitated, meeting eyes with Superboy, who nodded encouragingly. _Something psychological._

The team fell silent, though their thoughts collided violently with each other. Psychological? How, why?

_So,_ Artemis began. _Like, a memory gone haywire?_

Kid Flash glared at her. _What does that have to do with anything?_

She glared right back. _Plenty._

_I don't think-_

Zatanna cut quickly in. _No, I can see what she means. Like, a bad memory so strong and powerful, he subconsciously blocks it, and, now, things are reminding him of it, so, his brain is trying to bring it back into his fore mind, but, he's buried it so deep it's actually hurting him. _She bit her lip. _Maybe._

_It is a good theory, Zatanna,_ Aqualad said. _However, I am not sure it is entirely possible._

_Things like that do happen on Mars. We Martians use are minds for so much, those situations have been known to occur. But, humans _are _different, and you all don't have minds quite like we do._

_Okay, then, if that's not his problem, what is? _Wally huffed.

_I'm not sure. I could consult my Uncle J'onn ab-_

"You know," the Boy Wonder was suddenly facing them all, a mischievous smirk, that lacked some of his usual energy, gracing his features. "If you're gonna have a telepathic conversation, you might want to try being discreet about it. At the very least."

The team blushed, turned back around. The silence was awkward, even when he turned back around. They hoped, but knew such a thing was useless at the moment, that he hadn't guessed that they were discussing him.

Superboy broke the silence. _We should tell Batman. _

And they all agreed.

* * *

**Review? Pretty please? -Jimmy C.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, so, I'm sorry this took me so long. It just took forever to write. I know, not an excuse...but...what's yours? C'mon, now. **

**Seriously, though. This story has 45 alerts to it's name. But, last chapter? About 5 or 6, maybe 7, reviews. Seriously? C'mon, now.  
**

**Anywho, I hop you enjoy. Also, I discovered that pressing Shift + Enter, and it'll do  
this. Cool, right?**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

"He wasn't there."

Ra's al Ghul let out a very slow and deep breath, closing the book before him, opting to stay seated and staring in the direction entirely opposite of the speaker.

When Psimon saw that the man would not reply, he spoke again. "The boy – the child. I could not sense him."

"Yes. He was suspended."

Ra's easily felt the telepath stiffen behind him.

Psimon, in fact, let go of all barriers, his emotions and thoughts coming in an angry barrage toward anyone's mind within range. Outside of the room, he could hear Shadows groaning at the sudden relay, but from al Ghul, all he felt was his mental messages being met with an abrupt and hard wall. "You knew?"

"I did."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Ra's smiled thinly, turning slowly to face him. "I did not feel the need." He ignored Psimon's indigence, and shut off that the man was about to speak. "Your own foolishness and stupidity are undoing behind this. Had you not acted beyond my command, the child would still be within your mind's grasp."

Psimon glared at him with all his being, both mind and body. "My foolishness? My _stupidity? _It is your narrow thoughts that keep us from gleaning information that could destroy the Justice League itself! And yet, here you are, acting in cowardice and fear, gathering petty information about their team of children instead of looking for ways to topple this facade of an empire the world views them as!" He spat the words out with a fierce hatred.

Ra's stilled himself completely, a murderous gaze pointed straight to the telepath. "I take it your mistress hasn't shared anything about The Light with you."

"She has shared plenty."

"Clearly. Though, apparently it has nothing to do with how The Light operates. I do not act out of cowardice – just caution. I know who the League member is that is headlining this small team of children. I know his ways, his thought processes – everything. He has, no doubt, suspected that something is wrong, thanks to you. If he comes to realize _what_, exactly, is happening, this whole endeavor is for naught." He said it with a casualness and nonchalance that was offsetting.

Psimon sneered. "This whole 'endeavor', being your own project, will be on your head, then."

Ra's al Ghul looked up. He smiled in a friendly way as he stood and moved toward the creature. Patting him on the shoulder, Ra's said, "No, my comrade. _You _undertook this. The Light knew _exactly_ what your mission was, and _exactly_ how you were to perform it, and _exactly_ when-" he leaned forward "-you would be overstepping your bounds."

Psimon tried to steel himself.

"The Light is not pleased with you. Not even your mistress is in the mood to defend you. You, _my comrade,_ will be receiving the full brunt of _our wrath_ when all has come tumbling through."

With a hard swallow, Psimon attempted once more to worm his way out of full blame, using all his skills. "The Light has gambled everything on this one child's mind?" He chuckled bitterly – though it was weak. "This is their last shot? No wonder they worry. If this is their best attempt at ruining the Justice League, than they are out of their depth."

Ra's laughed. "You think this is the best attempt of The Light? You are severely mistaken. The Light have many ways – this is just one. It's merely a launching pad. When this fails – though it be a sorely missed medium for information – The Light will simply go into the next phase. No, The Light will handle this with the grace and delicacy that a doctor does with a stillborn child."

Psimon was relieved when Ra's leaned away and went back to his seat. He retracted his mind's tendrils from the air, blocking himself up, hiding away his thoughts and feelings. Irrationally, he thought that, perhaps, Ra's al Ghul could hear thoughts, and feel emotions. But, he knew that was impossible. He hoped.

"You may leave, Psimon." With a flick of his hand, the Shadow's master sent him out of the room.

When he was gone, Ra's breathed heavily through his nose. His back straightened, his face was schooled, and the book became unread and untouched.

"Father."

He looked up to see Talia approach from the shadows. "Yes, my child."

"Does my beloved suspect us?"

"I do not know." He eyed her face closely. "You still think him 'beloved'?"

Talia sat opposite, crossing her legs and leaning back. "I do."

"Why? He has proven himself over and over our enemy."

"And yet, you push for a union between us."

He smiled. "Can a father not wish the best upon their child?"

She smiled back. "Even though the best wishes our demise?"

"That _is, _in part, what makes him the best. He is clever. More cle-"

"-More clever than any other man you have ever gone up against, yes, father, I know. But he refuses to be with me if I am still _with _you, father. And, he refuses to be persuaded to join us."

Ra's sighed. "Yes, I know."

Talia rested her head delicately on a finger. "Using his own pupil against him, while a strategic move, does not encourage good will toward ourselves from him."

Ra's gaze hardened. "My daughter, are you saying I should halt this?"

She met her gaze without a flinch. "Have you not admitted that its demise is upon us?"

"It is not here, yet, child. Refrain from this foolish thinking while you can. Or you _shall_ become like him, and it will be _you_ joining your 'beloved' and not _him_ joining us."

She conceded with a drop of her eyes, though her father could still see the rebellious thought running through her mind. And then Talia smiled lightly. "You called him my 'beloved.'"

He returned her smile. "And you never answered why you call him that yourself."

Talia wavered, her eyes flicking away, and then returned. "I do not believe it matters."

"You have feelings for him."

She could not decide if the tone in his voice was that of simply stating facts, or of disappointment. "Perhaps. At times, I believe he returns them. Though, I believe my feelings are more of respect for his prowess. You are right, father. He is the perfect match to build an empire." She stood to leave. "If we could get him to agree, the world would certainly be within our grasp."

Ra's watched his daughter leave the room. "Yes, perhaps."

* * *

**This needs to be addressed. Also, they have Lian, now (did anyone else make a noise when she appeared?), they should let Damian make an appearance. This would make my life. Review, please. All of you. :) I might update sooner. Maybe. -Jimmy C.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh my goodness, guys. I am so sorry. I had camp for two weeks, and then I never got back to this. I don't even want to think about how long ago that was. So, so sorry. **

**Um. Here.**

* * *

The dark-skinned Atlantean approached the Batman with a slightly hesitant reverence. He was unsure of what to say – and he certainly did not want to offend with his words. For a moment, he wished that he had asked that M'gann had come with him, but, she had gone to her uncle to discuss what Aqualad wished to speak about with the very tall shadow standing in the center of the room, working quickly and diligently with information that the boy couldn't even begin to process.

"What is it, Aqualad?" The man didn't even turn away from his work on the computer.

The boy hesitated. "It concerns Robin."

The pause in his work was almost too slight to be noticed. "Go on."

Kaldur cleared his throat. "And our last mission."

This time, Batman did stop, and turned to face him. "You've already given your report."

"Yes," Kaldur agreed, an earnestness entering his speech. "When the whole team was present. But, I did not think it good timing to discuss this with you while Robin was in the room."

The Dark Knight gave an almost imperceptible nod for him to continue.

"He was not himself. He was irritable toward Kid Flash-"

"Irritable?"

"Perhaps that is too shallow a word. He reacted harshly to Kid Flash when we set up the mind link-"

"What did Kid Flash say?"

"He simply asked where we were in the building."

"And how did Robin respond?" An impatient edge lent itself to the man's voice, and it occurred to Aqualad that, perhaps, Batman didn't like that none of these conversations were recorded for him to study.

"He told Kid Flash that he was on a need to know basis." The Atlantean could have sworn that the corner of Batman's mouth twitched upward. "It was so harsh, however, that Miss Martian and I asked if he was well. He said he was 'fine', but, I cannot help but feel otherwise about him."

Batman didn't so much as hum as he digested the short retelling. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Once we were back at the ship, Kid Flash told Robin to not ignore him, to which Robin yelled in response that he could ignore him if he so wished." Aqualad felt a bit like a child with his recitation. However, he was much more wary of leaving out information than speaking like the warrior he was meant to be. "Miss Martian and I decided to end the mind link, then."

Batman's eyes narrowed quickly. "Robin yelled through the mind link."

"I apologize for not being more precise. Kid Flash spoke through the mind link, and Robin yelled aloud."

The man nodded.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Batman gazed at Aqualad for just a moment longer, noting the still tense posture, and the hesitant eyes. He wasn't unused to this. He had worked hard to build up a reputation of being terrifying – a shadow flitting just in the furthest reaches of your peripheral vision; a dark symbol of vengeance. He was pleased in that he even held that image among the super hero community, even if to a lesser degree. But, this stance was different.

This wasn't the tense, upright stance of Aqualad, leader of a covert team of young superheroes. Aqualad who served under the King of Atlantis. Aqualad who was careful in both words and actions – almost to an excessive amount. Aqualad who must report to the Dark Knight of Gotham. No, this was Kaldur'ahm who stood before him.

Kaldur'ahm, who was known as Kaldur to his friends. Kaldur'ahm, who understood that the bond of friendship went beyond to being with a group of people often. Kaldur'ahm, who was the big brother to a group of young heroes who each desperately needed family in their own unique way. Kaldur'ahm who was wise enough to see beyond the first impression, and look to the potential of a person. And Kaldur'ahm was profoundly fearful for his teammate and friend.

Batman turned back to his work, to sort through the information. He could understand being annoyed with Wally West. But, there was always that sincerity in the boy that usually ended up pushing through it all, impressing even him with feelings of goodwill toward the ginger. But Robin was never annoyed with Kid Flash. Dick was never annoyed with Wally. They were best friends.

Of course. Dick never attacks fellow classmates, either.

"There was one last thing I need to mention to you."

He faced Kaldur'ahm again. "Yes?"

"Miss Martian and I spoke further about it. She said that there was a pain Robin seemed to be dealing with. Both physical and psychological."

Bruce Wayne's mind flashed back to Barbara Gordon, while Batman kept a toned down composure. "Does she know why?"

Kaldur'ahm shook his head. "She was afraid of delving too deeply, and, not only making herself known to him, but, also, of causing him more pain."

"Have her talk to J'onn about this."

"She is doing so even as we speak."

Batman gave another nod. There was still that hesitancy in the silver eyes, though. "What else."

"Nothing more. I was simply wondering where Robin was. It is not school hours, and he is normally not far from you when you are here."

"He's visiting a friend." He turned around for the final time, and continued his work, which was almost done.

'`'`'`'`'``'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Dick pulled the hat lower over his eyes, turning his head toward the floor and sticking his hands in his jacket pockets as he entered the hospital door. He hated hats. They were much to constricting, and hindered his ability to be fully aware of his surroundings. But, he just so happened to be the ward of Billionaire Bruce Wayne, who was a popular subject for the tabloids – which meant that Dick often got caught in the crossfire.

Now, however, as he had seen that morning at one of the many magazine stands in the city, _he _was the one who they obsessed over. Beating Tom had earned Dick front page of _Gotham Gossip, _among others. Dick had paused long enough to see the speculations, and wonder when they got all of those _severely_ unattractive photos of him. And, yet, had only _one _just _slightly_ unattractive picture of Gotham's Most Eligible Bachelor. _Bruce, why must you be so _over_whelmingly photogenic?_ He had wondered briefly, and then continued on his mission.

He glanced down at his hand, where he had scribbled the room number hastily with a pen. Dick had easily surpassed the hospital's firewalls (Seriously, Gotham General could use an upgrade, he'd have to talk to Bruce about it), easily finding the patient he was looking for.

The boy looked up briefly at the wall to see where he was, and where he needed to go. He had come in at the North Entrance, and needed to be in the East Wing – where all the adolescents and children were treated. Glimpsing the number again, Dick started that way, looking for signs of an elevator, or stairs, on his way.

He really, _really_ didn't want to do this. At all. But, it was necessary. He knew it was necessary.

Finding the elevators, he pressed the up arrow, housed in a neat, white square, lined in black. While he waited, he looked around, trying to see if he could spy any unwelcome company. All he could see, fortunately, was the cream walls, the little table with a vase of fake flowers and foliage, and the tiled floor. A nurse or two, but, no one particularly unpleasant.

The elevator dinged, and doors slid open. He stepped in.

The room Dick was looking for was 324. With forced moves, without hesitation, he pressed the 3, which, like the upward arrow, was housed in white with black lining, except in a circle. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

As Robin, he was trained to pay attention to detail. When walking into an unfamiliar, uncomfortable, or suspicious situation, Batman had taught him to heighten his attention to detail. It was most distracting, and didn't help calm him in this situation. If anything, it made it worse.

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Taking a deep breath, Dick released it and exited. According to the numbered sign, he needed to take a left.

He dodged out of the way of several nurses, some walking quickly and purposefully down the hall with their clipboards hugged tightly against them, and some in groups, either talking in earnest with one another, or cheerfully. More than one paused a moment outside the door of a room, taking a moment to recollect the who, what, and why behind the heavy slab of wood.

_I'd make a good nurse,_ Dick mused with a tiny grin. _It's not too dissimilar to remembering half of Arkham._ His nonsensical thoughts were only somewhat successful in their purpose. He still counted the strides, watched the eyes, and glimpsed at the confidential notes the nurses and doctor's shared.

He stopped abruptly. Here was the room.

Dick listened closely, straining to hear signs of wakefulness. He could hear the TV...murmurings...music...a laugh track...laughter. Real laughter. Laughter he recognized. Yup. This was the room.

He knocked.

"Come in." The voice was distracted, clearly paying more attention to the show.

A few steps in, and the honey brown eyes of Tom Metzinger – ringed with black, purple, red, and yellow, Dick couldn't help but notice – looked up to meet his own bright blue ones. The boy in the hospital bed, started, his face contorting in fear while a small cry escaped his lips, and his hand scrambled for the assist button.

Dick through his hands up, palms out. "No! I won't come any closer, I just wanted to talk."

Tom went still, regarding him for a moment, the fear still burning in his eyes. "Okay." He glanced behind Dick. "But, you should probably hurry up, my mom'll be back soon."

Dick let his hands down, and smiled – just a bit – at the statement. "Thanks. Look, I-" He examined Tom's face. He had really given his classmate quite the beating. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have done that to you." He swallowed. Dick felt like he was beginning to sound like a recording, insincere. "I really mean it, Tom."

Tom looked away, down at his hands. "Yeah. Well, I probably shouldn't have said the things I said."

Dick paused. "Uh...okay."

Tom looked back up, almost startled. "Do you remember what I said?"

Blushing, Dick shook his head. "To be honest, I don't even remember hitting you. All I remember is being pulled away and seeing," he winced, "Well, seeing your face all bloodied up." He stopped, his forehead creasing. "Wait, what did you say?"

"What does it matter what my son said?" Both the boys started at the harsh, female voice coming from the door. "What are you doing here, anyways?"

"Mrs. Metzinger, I-" Dick was stopped by a slap to the face.

Molly Metzinger's face was scrunched up, angry, confused, and – Dick hated himself for it – fear. "Have you come to hurt him some more?"

Tom tried to interject, "Mom, he wasn't doing anything-"

"Get out of here, you little monster!" She slapped him again, tears streaming down her face. Nurses started crowding the door.

Dick felt his own eyes prickle with wet betrayal. He nodded silently, ducking around her, watching her every move, trying not to touch her. He thought he heard Tom say something on his behalf, but, all he saw were her angry, hate-filled eyes.

Pushing his way past the nurses, Dick pulled his hat lower, and his jacket closer. As the tears started to creep down his face, the boy couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

* * *

**I'm really hoping all that made sense. Yes, this took me ages to write. But, good news. I'm hoping to continue writing _at least_ 100 words a day. Hopefully more. I've never been good with right at. So, hopefully more. Again, so sorry. -Jimmy C.**


	9. Chapter 9

**You guys should be so proud of me. Beyond proud. Wrote this in 6 days. Which means, you don't have to wait over a month for it! Yaaayyyy! So much goodness going on in my soul right now. Sort of. **

**This was actually a fun chapter to write. At least, the first part. I don't know if it turned out as well as I hope, but, I really enjoyed it. It was challenging, and...almost deep. I may be making this up. Just read it. **

* * *

The apartment was calming. Few things were hung on the walls, which were a beige color. It was all rather bland, actually, with just a few, small, green plants to lend a bit of life. But, it was comforting, in a way. It allowed room for slowing down, and focusing. For resting, and learning. For cooling, and staying that way.

Martian Manhunter, who was also known as J'onn J'onzz, though more commonly referred to as John Jones, would never be mistaken for an interior decorator. But, he would also never be mistaken as a loud, pretentious fool who cared in only airing his own opinions and words.

No, J'onn preferred keeping it quiet and calm. It helped when he was involved in a particularly difficult and confusing case, or when the League had been under tremendous strain. He felt the strain more than anyone – save for Batman. And he needed a space that would help clear his mind.

Despite his love for Earth culture, and his constant desire to learn more about it, he also recognized the need to draw away from it, at times. And so he did, in his small apartment. That is what he needed more often than not. Which was especially helpful in this moment, with his niece, M'gann M'orzz – or, Miss Martian – visiting, relating a curious set of serious events.

Curious, in that, it was unusual for such a thing. Serious, in that, it was extremely worrisome to all involved.

The ginger Martian levitated in a seated position, opposite the older, male Martian. They mirrored each other, eyes glowing as they shut themselves out from their surroundings. The atmosphere was tense. Thick, even. Emotional, though their expressions were passive. And then it faded.

_This is...most interesting. _Martian Manhunter said to his niece. They both placed their feet on the ground, to continue their telepathic conversation.

_Yes, and it's...frightening, Uncle J'onn. I've never experienced anything like this on earth. One or two times on Mars, maybe, but...not here. And definitely not with my teammates. Except for..._ She paused, her eyes unfocused.

_Except for what?_ J'onn pressed.

M'gann looked back up, her eyes bright. _Except for Superboy. Just a little. Not much, but, there were fragments of similar feelings and thought patterns. _She bit her lip._But, how is that possible? Robin and Superboy are nothing alike. Robin is human, and grew up at a normal pace, around other humans. Superboy is Kryptonian, and grown to the age of 16 within a matter of weeks. _

J'onn pondered this. _Indeed, there does not seem to be any sort of connection._ His eyes narrowed slightly. _When you say 'similar', how do you mean?_

M'gann's brow furrowed. _Similar in that...there were similar presences._

_Presences?_

_Yes. _

J'onn leaned forward intently. His concern came in strong waves. _What do you mean, presence?_

_A..._Suddenly, her own concern mirrored his intensity. _Like a trail of bread crumbs. Like someone had been there, and they were a strong presence. _Anxiety filled her every conscious being. _Oh, Uncle J'onn, it's as if they were violated! Poor Robin! _Tears filled her eyes. _Uncle J'onn, it was such an awful experience for Superboy, but, even then, it was more like he was simply being raised through telepathy! But, Robin! This had to have been put upon him! He's much too young to be attacked so, who would dare!-_

J'onn betrayed how often he was companion to his earth comrades by physically raising his hand to stop her onslaught. _Remember, M'gann, a mental invasion like this is not quite as serious to earthlings as it is on Mars. _With private relief, he realized that he was successful in placating her. _However, that does not make this any less important of a problem. _

M'gann nodded.

_I will discuss this with Batman. He will be most interested in what we have realized, together. _

Again, she nodded. And then sighed, breaking away from the mental connection, as if it was too deep a subject for her to maintain. "Thank you, Uncle J'onn."

He accepted the hug from her with his usual awkwardness, and escorted her out the door once they had both shifted into their human facades.

Saying goodbye, J'onn went to his couch and sat, contemplating how he was going to relate this to a non-telepath. A few moments longer, and then he rose. Batman would want to know this as soon as possible, though, he had to admit, he was not looking forward to sharing this with him.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Dick walked right past Alfred, ignoring the elderly man's queries. He really didn't want to talk. Except that he did, but, not really. He sighed deeply. Nothing seemed to make much sense, today.

Entering his room, the acrobat flung his hat off, and ungracefully flopped onto his bed, rolling over to face the wall. He had fought the tears all the way home, and had lost most of that battle. He did, however, manage to keep the sobs to a low volume. Dick was grateful for that, at least. Now, he closed his eyes to calm his emotions and think.

What _had _Tom said? He honestly didn't remember. What did he remember? Dick curled into himself a little more. He remembered...anger. A heavy, burning anger that coursed through his veins, heating his body into action. But, why? Why was he angry? He though further back.

Vague feelings, vague...images seemed to come to mind. They were so hard to grasp, though! Nothing was clear. Dick clutched his head. Nothing was clear, and everything was painful. He gasped. Since when was remembering this painful? He tried to think harder.

But, the harder he thought, the more intense the pain began to feel. Oh, but he almost had it! Something...something about his parents? But, there was more, beyond that...

Drums. Deep, throbbing drums. Bass sounding drums. Drums that simply overtook every thought, every breath, every fiber of his being.

Dick's eyes flew open, and the tears came. Again. If his head didn't hurt so much, and these past few days hadn't been so disastrous, he felt that he would have laughed at how annoyed he was with all this crying.

It took him a few minutes, but, Dick was able to calm down. His tears subsided, and his thoughts cleared. The drumming had stopped – a fact for which he was immensely grateful. Sitting up, Dick reached for his phone, thumbing quickly through the contacts, and finding the one he needed.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Barbara," Dick said, his voice tired and low.

"_Dick! How are you, are you okay! I've missed you around school!"_

He smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." He heard something in the background. "Am I interrupting something?"

"_Huh?" _He heard the rustle of fabric, and her breath seemed to turn away from the speaker, but it returned in a second. _"Oh, no. I've just got the TV on, that's all. So, what's up? I haven't heard a peep out of you since I last saw you at school, despite my numerous texts and calls, and it's only _now _ that you've decided to call?"_

Dick laid back down, and stared at the ceiling. "Yeah...I, uh, I went and visited Tom at the hospital, today."

He could hear her settling down. _"Yeah? How'd that go?"_

"His mom slapped my face."

"_Ouch. Literally."_

"Yeah. But, before she showed up, Tom mentioned that he may have said something to set me off."

There was a pause. _"Do you not remember?"_

Dick let out an angry breath. "No, not a thing! I've wracked my brain, and all I've gotten is a headache. A really bad one."

"_That's kind of weird. That's totally something you'd remember." _She muttered the words, as if she really didn't want to tell him that, but, she wasn't paying enough attention to realize that she said it out loud.

The boy shot up to sit straight. "_What_ is something I would _totally remember_?"

Barbara was quiet again. Dick knew she was sitting pensively, her lips pressed together, her eyes half-lidded, and her brow furrowed. She was weighing her options. Weighing what to say."

"Barbara..."

On the other line, she sighed. _"Dick, you won't like this. At all."_

"Just spit it out, Babs!"

"_He talked about your parents."_

Dick found himself curling up again. "What sort of things did he say."

"_Look, Dick, I don't think-"_

"Just tell me."

"_He...well, he talked about the day they died."_

Dick pulled his knees close. "Oh."

"_I'm so sorry, Dick."_

"Why did he say that?"

"_Well...he saw that I was trying to get your attention, and said he'd do it for me. I didn't think he'd do that...but, I was really worried about you, Dick. You've been acting incredibly weird lately."_

"I know..."

"_Is something wrong?"_

He breathed in a deep, heavy, and overwhelmed breath. "I don't know. It's driving me crazy. I don't remember things, I keep getting these headaches out of no where, and, I apparently zone out and start hurting people. Physically."

"_Maybe you should see a doctor."_

"That's not too bad an idea..."

There was silence between them. A comfortable one. Just for a moment.

"_Dick?"_

"Yeah?"

"_When you went to see Tom, did anything happen between you and him?"_

"No."

"_Positive?"_

"Positive. I stayed a pretty good distance away from him. Why?"

"_You should probably turn the TV on."_

Glancing around, Dick spotted the remote and practically launched himself at it. Pointing it at the flat screen mounted on his bedroom wall, he pressed the power button. "Which channel?"

"_The entertainment one."_

He found it easily, and paled. "Bruce will not like this."

* * *

**My new system may or may not be working. Review? -Jimmy C.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Longest chapter yet, kids. Seriously. 2500 words, or so. Not as pleased with this one as I was the last. But, I think it's...okay. Gah. Bruce can be so difficult to write correctly.**

* * *

Bruce Wayne walked with a bit of a swagger into the lobby to his office. He smiled as he greeted his secretary, who was working on her computer. "Good afternoon, Sarah!"

The pretty, young brunette looked up in surprise. "Mr. Wayne! I thought you weren't supposed to be in, today."

He leaned against her desk, flashing her one of his infamous, charming grins. "I wasn't, but, I realized I needed to check in on something. How are you, today?"

Sarah smiled neatly back, and the diamond ring on her hand glinted as it caught the light when she moved it from her key board. "I'm quite well, thank you. David called me today, and my day got it's cheery boost."

Bruce chuckled. He liked Sarah. She avoided the charms he through at people, the ones that made most girls swoon, and she was madly in love with her fiance. With her, the world seemed right, and she exuded her happiness into her work. She was an incredible asset to him, and they couple were definitely getting a very nice, and very expensive, wedding gift from the billionaire. "Good! Anything important come up that I should take care of while I'm here?"

Her eyes lost a bit of cheer, and her smile dropped. "Yes, actually. The Metzinger's lawyer called."

Bruce dropped his facade. He had a pretty good idea as to why. "What did he want?"

"She, actually. Deborah Mattingly called to inform you that Molly Metzinger wants a restraining order against Dick."

He straightened.

"I already called your lawyer, and he said he'd take care of it." She sat a little taller in her seat to look up at him, kindness and concern overcoming her countenance. "How is Dick? His face has been plastered all over the gossip magazines and shows."

Bruce nodded. "I've seen a few. He's doing...well. But, it's taking it's toll on him."

"I bet."

They didn't speak for a moment.

Bruce changed that. "Thank you, Sarah. I'll be in my office."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne."

He stepped through the heavy door, entering his large, modern office. It was fairly sparse, with a desk that sat in front of wide windows that took up the whole wall. There were a few paintings on the wall, and, between the door and his desk was another table that, more often than not, seemed like it belonged in a war room, rather than the office of one of Gotham's elite. Blueprints of buildings and new pieces of technology littered the table, except for the very center, where there was as small, black disk-like object with an opening in its center.

That was the holographic screen projector, but for 3-D and 2-D settings. It was extremely useful when using the paper blue prints, and needing to make some tweaks.

He paused at the table, glancing at the blueprints, noting a sonic projector that could prove useful. And then continued on to his desk, where Lucius Fox had said he left a few files for Bruce's "personal projects."

As soon as he reached the desk, the holographic screen projector suddenly appeared, and he turned around to see Sarah's screen-paled face. _"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Fox is on channel one for you."_

_Speak of the devil... _With a press of the button, the screen changed from Sarah, to his trusted, worried looking friend. "Lucius?"

"_You may want to turn the television on."_

Bruce closed his eyes and exhaled carefully. He had an idea. Stepping toward the holographic projection, Bruce reached out and minimized Lucius' window to the bottom left corner, while pulling up the news.

He frowned. "I don't see anything important, Lucius."

The older man smirked in good humor, though it was strained. _"Actually, you may want to try the entertainment channel."_

Bruce glanced down briefly, following through with the suggestion. "Didn't know you liked that channel."

"_Oh, I don't. But, one of my lab technicians just got a call from his wife, and he was kind enough to share with me."_

The channel pulled up, and Bruce immediately saw the problem. It was a special report on Richard Grayson.

A woman's voice sounded through the office. _"Witnesses have confirmed that there were sounds of flesh being hit, and some say that there were pained screamed."_

Bruce's handsome features wrinkled with his silent disgust.

"_Just moments later, an angry Richard Grayson – ward of the infamous Billionaire, Bruce Wayne – was seen storming out of the room of the boy he had previously attacked." _She was blond, wearing just enough make-up to almost be too much, attractive, and _this_ close to being labeled ditzy.

Bruce turned it off with finality.

"_Now, I know he didn't attack him at the hospital, and I'm certain _you_ know he didn't. What happened at the school was something...unusual, there's not doubt about it." _Lucius did eye him with scrutiny. _"You agree with this, of course. It's not just some random outburst."_

"No, it's not that," Bruce said, shaking his head. "But, it feels like a fluke."

"_A fluke?"_

"Yes, almost as if he wasn't supposed to even acknowledge anyone's presence, let alone beat them."

"_Which would seem to contradict his actions today."_

"How do you mean?" Bruce was thinking over this. Batman was thinking.

"_How do you suppose I mean? If, during Study Hall, Dick wasn't supposed to acknowledge anyone's presence, then why would he go to the trouble of going to the hospital, to, perhaps, finish the job?"_

"He wouldn't."

"_No, he wouldn't."_

Bruce looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to believe that it could be true. Not of Dick. He needed confirmation. "What are you saying, Lucius."

He could see Lucius looking around, insuring that no one was in earshot. When he did look back, he met Bruce's eyes with a bold fear. _"You know what I'm saying, Mr. Wayne. This goes beyond unusual, yet, with your enemies, this oughtn't be entirely unsuspected."_

Bruce nodded silently.

"_Someone's been in there. Someone has been in his brain."_

Bruce shut down the communication. He wasn't denying this. No, Bruce had these suspicion for quite some time now. He glanced quickly at the projector. Lucius would understand his rudeness. He hoped.

He felt as though he stomped past Sarah, who asked something, he wasn't entirely sure what, though he gave a small wave back to her, acknowledging that she spoke. Sarah wouldn't understand like Lucius would, but, she wouldn't be terribly offended.

To be quite honest, Bruce didn't really care. Now would be a good time to look in on his ward.

Leaving the office building, Bruce instantly found himself surrounded by the flashing lights of the paparazzi. He ignored them easily, though quite a few of their insulting questions came through.

_Is it true that Richard attacked him? Does your ward get therapy? Mr. Wayne, is Dick involved in drugs? _

And then there was one that he nearly turned on them for.

"_Bruce, Bruce! Is he acting violent because you hit him?"_

But, with a deep breath, Bruce managed to bypass even that question, and get to his car without maiming a 'vulture.'

Through his tinted window, he realized that he and Dick definitely needed to talk.

He managed to get out of the parking garage without even "accidentally" hitting anyone, though he did briefly roll down his windows long enough to shoot his very best glare – usually reserved when in his _other _suit – at the security guard who knew better.

By the time he reached the manor, Bruce realized that he hadn't paid any attention to the drive, and the problem with Dick was, in no way, solved. He walked in with shoulders that were slumped just enough for only Alfred to know.

"I take it things are not well, Master Bruce?"

Bruce sighed and looked up. "Not really. Where's Dick?"

"In his room. Does this, per chance, have anything to do with those ghastly 'reporters' calling every ten seconds?"

"I'm afraid so," was all Bruce said.

He nearly didn't go upstairs to Dick's room. Batman pushed forward, though, bringing him to his ward's door. He paused a moment, listening; there was murmuring, and he thought it might be the TV. He knocked.

"Come in." The voice was faint with distraction.

Bruce opened the door, seeing that Dick already knew what the world was thinking. He entered the room without the boy so much as looking away from the screen.

Bruce didn't look at it, himself, choosing to gauge the welfare of his ward.

The boy was sitting on the edge, his knees bent and tucked under his chin.

The man positioned himself by the bed, his hands in his pockets, regarding the television in the same silence as he had in his office with the holographic image.

"Why are you watching this, Dick?"

"I can't help it. I'm a teenager who understands nothing but the mindless drone of electronics."

"Nice try, Dick. Turn it off."

He did as he was told, never turning around. "I didn't do it, Bruce, I swear."

"I believe you." Bruce sat down on the bed. "So, what _did_ happen at the hospital?"

Dick turned around, looking into Bruce's eyes without hesitation. "Nothing. We talked. I apologized, Tom _may _have forgiven me – still not entirely sure on that point – his mom came in, and I left."

Bruce wasn't meeting Dick's eyes. He was staring at, what appeared to be, a faint purple on the boy's cheek.

Dick blushed slightly, his hand automatically reaching for the forming bruise.

"Did she hit you?"

"Yeah."

Bruce stood quickly, looking away. His jaw tensed, and his eyes didn't focus properly. Then he looked sharply back. "She hit you."

"Yeah."

The man nodded. "Well. That at least explains what people heard."

"Yeah."

He shook his head. "But that doesn't mean anything – she should be held accountable for hitting a minor."

Dick rested the uninjured side of his head on a hand. "Can you really blame her, though, Bruce?" He lifted the head, waving both hands in the air. "I mean, she thought I did it all on purpose, and that I was there to do it again! It's not all that different than when Robin gets hurt, and Batman reacts."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "Except that Robin is normally hurt out of an attempt at murder."

"Well, I almost killed him."

That stopped conversation rather neatly.

Bruce sat back down. "What, exactly, happened, Dick."

The boy scooted back to lean against the headboard. "I already told you, I went to the hospital to apolo-"

"Not at the hospital, Dick." Bruce lifted a hand. "At the school. What happened?"

Dick frowned. "We went over this, too."

"I know, but I really need you to remember."

The frown disappeared, and the gaze lowered. "Yeah, me too."

"You don't remember a thing?"

"Nope." He looked back up. "But, I did gather some info. When I visited Tom, he mentioned that he may have said something to set me off. His mom came back before I could get anything more from him. So, I came back to do some sulking." He grinned briefly, knowing his honesty wouldn't go completely unappreciated. "And called Babs. She told me that Tom, trying to get my attention for her, and, in doing so, said some...things."

Bruce twisted around to face him more fully. "What sort of things?"

Dick flushed, and broke eye contact briefly. "I don't think it's all that important."

"Dick."

"That look doesn't work on me, Bruce."

"Dick, you have to tell me."

"Why?"

"Because it could be important."

Dick looked down, thinking.

"Was it about your parents?"

Dick nodded, and Bruce could see his lips moving, but, he wasn't sure if the whispered 'yes' he heard was a figment of his imagination or reality.

"Was it about their deaths?"

He received the same response from the boy.

"I see."

Dick rolled his eyes a little, before laying his head side ways across his knees to stare out the window.

Bruce remained silent, weighing the words that rested heavily in his mind. An old, familiar ache kept the questions at bay for the moment. Probably for the best, he decided.

"I kind of remember that."

"What?"

Dick looked back up. "When I got home from the hospital, I tried to focus on what happened that day. And I mean, _really_ focus. But, I couldn't recall anything. _Except _for feeling angry, and that the anger had something to do with my parents.

"But, it's all extremely vague. And, when I tried to remember more, I got this really intense headache. Definitely was not an asterous experience for me." The boy finished, finally raising his head again.

The Bat was meeting his gaze with scrutiny. "That's...for lack of a better word, fascinating."

The boy stretched out, offering a glimmer of cheer. "I'm sure it is, Mr. Spock, but, I'm afraid that doesn't help us out much."

Bruce allowed a slip of a smile on his face. "Actually, Dick, it just might." He stood. "I'm going to have a talk with J'onn about this."

Dick straightened suddenly. "Do you think he could help?"

"I do."

"Great, then, let's go!" Dick hopped off his bed, making a grab for his sunglasses.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I think I'll just go by myself, Dick."

Dick looked crestfallen for just a moment. "The Watchtower, then?"

"Yes."

"Okay." The boy thought for a moment, and then tried to put on a cheeky smile. "No problemo, my dear Bruce, I'd probably only be somewhat whelmed, anyways."

Bruce laughed. "Not only are you wrong, you're a terrible liar."

Dick shrugged. "I can still try, though."

"Uh-huh. Look, I do think Alfred was making cookies when I walked in, _and_ I think he can help with that bruise." The man rubbed a thumb lightly over the cheek, withdrawing quickly when the boy winced.

"Good, because I'm starving," Dick claimed, walking toward the door.

Bruce stayed where he was, amused. "If you're starving, have a sandwich or something, first."

Dick stopped in the hall, turning around. "Since when did you become the parent-type? Only Alfred tells me that kind of stuff."

He didn't wait for an answer, walking to the kitchen with a cackle.

Bruce dropped the smile, turning to the poster Dick kept on his wall. It was the Haley's Circus poster, portraying the famous "Flying Graysons." It was interesting that family was the only thing Dick remembered. Yet, Gotham's Dark Knight felt that he would have been similar.

He could only imagine what, exactly, it was that had re-awakened Dick, though. Just the mention of a parent's death – anyone's parent – brought up memories of that night for the boy, like it did for Bruce.

He left the room, closing the door behind him. J'onn would help. J'onn was fast becoming the only hope in this mindless puzzle.

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**Eh? Eeehh? Review, please. -Jimmy C.**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, headcanon time. That may be actual canon. Not sure. In my mind, Bruce and J'onn are actually really good friends. Maybe not as good as Bruce is with Clark, but, good friends. Makes sense, right? J'onn is a telepath, and a very powerful one at that. So, he would more easily feel the pain and thoughts of Bruce. Which would leave them no choice but to be good friends.**

**That's all.**

**Also, shout outs to my anonymous reviewers.**

** Guest- Thank you! Also, yes, I'm not surprised with the errors...whether or not I'll actually get around to them is another story...**

** Ethuil- Thank you, and here it is!**

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It didn't surprise Martian Manhunter that the leader of the Justice League wished to meet in his personal quarters. And, this had nothing to do with his telepathy. Batman was a creature of the night, and therefore a man given to secrecy. His paranoia was a thing of legend among the League, and J'onn knew that every inch of the watchtower was monitored, in some way, by The Dark Knight.

Except, he assumed, this room. Batman's room.

He had glanced around curiously when he first entered, but it could have been any of the rooms in the Watchtower that weren't being used. The only clues that someone lived here from time to time was the fact that the bed had sheets and a comforter, and the shaving kit J'onn managed to get a glimpse of through the cracked-open bathroom door.

"I must say, Batman, I had thought that, perhaps, you would have a little more to show of yourself."

Bruce smiled just a bit as he pulled the cowl off – though not before making sure the door was closed and locked. This was a conversation that would be laced with honesty. "I prefer a minimalist way of living when I'm not in Gotham."

"Not even additional tools?"

With a press of a button, the wall opposite Batman's bed pushed itself outward, with parts that turned and twisted to reveal a hidden armory. "You wouldn't believe how long it took me to work that into the room without people knowing."

J'onn chuckled, a deep, almost chuffing sound.

"This isn't a social call," Bruce sobered the conversation quickly.

The Martian nodded. "I suspect it has much to do with your young ward."

"It does."

"Good, for I, also, have much to discuss with you. M'gann spoke with me soon after their last mission."

"Aqualad said as much." Bruce paused, steepling his hands together. "Robin hasn't been acting himself, lately."

"And, has Dick?"

Bruce looked at him sharply. "No."

"I did not think so." The Martian leaned forward. "I must share with you what M'gann has discovered."

Bruce indicated that he should continue.

But J'onn was silent for a moment or two. He was sorely tempted to _show_ the man sitting opposite him, now. However, he reasoned, such an action would not only be an overwhelming experience for the non-Martian, but also a severe offense to Bruce's personal space. He took too long, apparently.

"Someone's been in his mind, haven't they?"

The question was so blunt, J'onn was caught off-guard. "Yes. It would appear that way."

"What do you mean 'appear'?" Bruce's earnestness oozed out with a sickening aroma.

J'onn steadied himself, while allowing small tendrils of his consciousness to reach toward the human's. "From what M'gann described to me, there were traces of another presence. Breadcrumbs, I believe is a term you humans use."

"Is it possible to determine who it was?"

Again, J'onn hesitated, though it was not as long. "Yes."

Bruce leaned forward. "I don't like your tone. Is it a dangerous thing to do?"

The alien shook his head, raising a hand in a calming gesture. "No, that is not the problem. You see, there wasn't just another's presence in the boy's mind. There was an intrusion. On Mars, intrusions like these are equivalent to a rape here on Earth."

Bruce didn't show any reaction.

So J'onn continued. "It would be a completely advantageous maneuver, manipulating the mind into shock, thereby leaving itself unable to become defensive toward the intruder."

"So, whoever did this is really good."

"Well yes, or Robin's mental barriars-"

"Are stronger than most." Bruce's glare dared the Martian to protest. "I made sure and taught him everything I've ever learned, from you and others, on protecting his mind from psychological advances. This intruder operates on a level nearly equal to your skill."

J'onn inclined his head slightly in cautious agreement. "Indeed, they may be equal to my own skill. But this isn't simply raw power, this is also years of training and mental discipline."

"Someone who knows what their doing."

"Yes." J'onn cocked his head slightly. "Exactly _how_ has the boy been acting?"

"What do you mean?"

"You say he has not been himself, and M'gann says the same thing. I know how _Robin_ has been acting toward the team, but I do not know how he is in his civilian identity."

Bruce nodded, waiting a moment before speaking to sort his words. "According to a classmate, he'll go silent for extended periods of time during Study Hall, reading books."

The Martian's brow furrowed. "Is this not what Study Hall is for?"

"Yes, except that Dick is never completely silent when studying. He's never bouncing off the walls, but he likes to talk about it. It helps him retain the information. And, according to his classmate, the books are all random." He reached into one of his belt's compartments, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "Here's the list she wrote down. One was on guns, another on circus-related tragedies."

Red eyes coursed over the words, saying, for clarification, "A thesaurus, too, and he said nothing."

"Which is really odd."

"Quite." He gave the list back. "I must say that I am...disturbed, by this list. Those three, especially, I find intriguing. Are there other abnormalties beyond this?"

"Besides attacking a boy? I asked him to recount the events."

"And?"

"He couldn't remember. He claimed that the harder he tried, a headache would come, and would get worse until he stopped trying. The only thing he did remember is getting angry about his parents."

"I see." J'onn thought for a moment. "I would like to speak with the boy, perhaps access his mind – with his permission – to investigate further."

"You have suspicions, then?"

"Yes, I do. But, I would rather wait before speaking them, as I would not like to put unnecessary fears in your mind until I have more evidence."

Bruce stood, pulling the cowl over his head. "Alright. Though, you ought to know by now, J'onn, paranoia is part of my job."

J'onn stood with him, walking to the door. "I do know, Batman. I know full well."

They entered the hallway and parted ways. J'onn kept close rein on his emotions. The thought of what was happening was intense. He told Batman that he needed further evidence – and he did – though, now, he was fairly certain what was happening.

As for the Bat, their conversation did nothing to ease his mind. Already, he was listing those capable of such things. With a grim smile, he finished it. The list was short.

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**Mkay. Review? -Jimmy C.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Back! Sorry for the long wait. I'm worse than CN, sometimes. Ba dum tss! Eh, eh? Yeah, it was clever. **

** Ethuil- I know, right? It made so much sense to me for him to do that.**

** Guest- No worries. I liked the parallel, too. I actually am really enjoying having to think through their culture. Good challenge.**

** Guest2- You, too? Wait, your two guests aren't the same guest, are you? Either way, thank you!**

**Also, you all can thank for ARL15 for giving me guilt about not updating. I know it still took me close to a month, but, it could've been longer. **

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"What is it, Psimon?" Her tone was leaning toward disgusted. "Your brain is throbbing again, it's quite unpleasant."

The telepath closed his eyes, breathing deeply and smoothly to calm his nerves. "Nothing, my queen."

Queen Bee's gaze smouldered with barely suppressed anger. "Do not lie to me, my pet."

Psimon's eyes opened to meet hers. "I do not think you would appreciate some trivial concerns."

Her lids lowered slightly, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she relaxed her body. "Come now, darling." Her words dripped like honey from the hive, watering his mouth and delighting his ears. "What sort of queen would I be if I did not concern myself with my people's troubles?"

"Your tricks do not work on me. Not with my mind," he tapped the encased brain, his own lips lifting a bit.

She stood and covered the distance between them easily, tracing a finger along his jaw. "Not entirely, but, you do enjoy them."

Psimon didn't bother with blushing. He pushed her hand away with as much force as he dared, turning on his heel to leave.

"Psimon?" The honey was gone, but there lingered danger.

"My queen." He spun slowly. "Might I ask you a question?"

She lifted her head, as if to disdainfully reply, but Psimon felt her mind change. "Why not. But remove yourself, I will answer honestly." She lowered her head, smiling. "I promise."

He nodded in respect before querying, "Do you trust me?"

Queen Bee was surprised. "If I did not trust you, Psimon, would I ask so much of you?"

"I suppose not. But, my Queen, _how_ _much_ do you trust me?"

She started to frown. "You asked for one question. But, I will grace you with another answer."

Psimon nearly sneered at her generous facade.

"I trust you enough, Psimon. I have, perhaps, given you too much rein at times, but, you serve me well, doing what I ask, and keeping an eye on some of my...business associates."

He bowed. "Thank you, my Queen."

She nodded, waving a hand. "You may go now, if you wish."

He did wish, but kept it behind tight and thick walls, feeling her powers oozing toward him, hoping for a response. He disappointed her. Her powers, Psimon thought with a smile as he walked out the door, were nothing in the face of his own.

He didn't try not starting a few quarrels amongst her men. His own anger, seething and vibrant, poured over, mixing with their thoughts, giving them feelings of jealousy and resentment, even if they had none before. He did, however, put enough restraint on his mind as not to let them kill each other. She would be quite displeased, and his current state of living would become...less than pleasant.

Psimon slammed his quarter's door behind him. He was not pleased with anyone at the moment. Certainly not the Light. And, for once, not with his queen. She did not trust him enough. Perhaps he had perceived this before, but, now he saw, he had lied about it to himself. A dangerous thing, he realized with a grimace.

He sat down, listening to those in the hallway unfortunate enough to be so close as to feel his rage.

The telepath understood. He understood it very well. After all, if he felt it safe, all of The Light had their minds prodded and picked by him. He knew their treachery toward one another. He knew that their alliance wouldn't last forever. It was tough and sturdy, to be sure! Psimon knew, however, that every single member wanted more for themselves than the others. It was in their very nature.

But such good liars they were.

Psimon let one more wave depart from his mind before reining it all back in. He needed time to think for himself. He smiled.

They didn't trust him. He didn't trust them. It was as simple as that. Except... They thought themselves the highest. The most elite. Yet, how often in history did the underdog come forth and win the day. Quite often.

That's why they teamed up.

But against the Justice League – and now the young ones. Not against an "ally."

He let out relief. Or, at least, a false sense of calm. Psimon was good at that. Just as good as them.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Robin stopped rubbing his temples before right before he had properly materialized into the room, the computer announcing his presence. A cursory glance around, and he realized that the room was empty. In fact, a few of the lights had dimmed because of lack of activity.

Taking a cautious step forward, Robin started to reach for his utility belt. It was a gust of wind that put a halt to his actions.

"Dude!"

"Hey, Wally."

"Where have you been?" His best friend was at his side, arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Are you okay?" Wally whipped around to face him, his hands on Robin's shoulders, now.

"I'm fine, Wally," the younger boy replied, pushing away gently. "I was just...getting caught up on things."

The ginger tilted his head down, cocking an eyebrow. "What sort of things?"

Robin did his best to glare from behind his sunglasses. "Just things! You need to chill out, Wally!"

Wally took a step back. "Hey, I didn't mean anything."

Robin sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"I'm just worried." He put a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

Robin gave him a small sort of smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

Wally grinned. "So we're good? Great! Everyone's in the kitchen, where my babe is making some cookies."

"_Your_ babe?"

The speedster threw and arm around the Boy Wonder's shoulders, looking up slightly. "Oh, yeah. It's all but official. We are _so_ much closer today than yesterday."

"What, did she greet you first, today?"

"She most certainly did!"

"That doesn't mean a thing."

"Yeah it does, you just don't understand true love?"

"Oh, and you do?" Artemis' voice rang mockingly in greeting as the boys walked through the door.

Robin breathed the air in deeply, ignoring the tart response Wally gave to the archer. "Miss M, smells like your baking skills are improving!"

M'gann laughed, leaning over the oven. "Thanks, Robin! I think this batch is turning out just perfect."

She pulled out the cookie sheet, revealing beautifully golden discs of deliciousness. The bickering immediately stopped as two hands reached for the cookies. They were pushed away by an invisible force, as M'gann set them down on the counter to cool.

"Uh-uh," she said with a smile. "These are way too hot, and you know it!"

Wally grinned, "Not as hot as you- Ow!"

Artemis sneered as he rubbed his head. "You already used that, Baywatch. It's still not impressive."

Wally stuck his tongue out at her. "Only according to you, _Arty._"

Robin cackled. "Only according to _everyone_."

Conner pushed past them from his seat on the couch, while Zatanna stood close to the cookies, whispering.

He eyed her suspiciously as he grabbed a cookie. "You aren't going crazy, are you?"

Zatanna smiled brightly up at him, taking one for herself. "Definitely." She laughed. "Okay, not seriously. But, I figured out a spell to cool them down. It's a little annoying to watch you eat them, and _only_ you."

"They're only too hot for a few minutes, Z," Artemis remarked. "And, you clearly must be hanging around Wally too much, if you're getting _that _impatient."

The brunette took a bite, waving a finger at the other girl. "How dare you accuse me of such an abominable act. I'm a much better eater than Kid Glutton."

Wally glared at her, holding three cookies in both hands.

"All I'm saying is," she said, ignoring him. "That now, we, too, can all eat the cookies when they come out, piping hot from the oven, alongside the Boy of Steel, here."

Robin reached over Wally toward the sheet. "I, for one, am good with that!"

Wally was chewing slowly, looking at the contents of his hands, mumbling through the food, "I am not a glutton."

Artemis snorted. "Then you are clearly unaware of how disgusting it is when you-"

"Okay!" M'gann cut in, giving Artemis a look. "How's school going?"

There were plenty of "fines" and "okays," and Robin just smiled and nodded.

He deftly took the conversation from M'gann, knowing that she would press for better answers. "Yeah, Zatanna, how's Happy Harbor High?"

The girl gave a rueful grin, mostly for the name. "It's alright. My classmates are really nice, and the teachers really aren't that bad."

Superboy paused, mid-bite. "What makes a bad teacher?"

"Uh, one who gives you insane amounts of homework, duh," Wally said.

"Which you can breeze through in a fraction of the time it takes everyone else!" Robin countered.

Zatanna chuckled at the two. "It's actually not the homework. They're just...not bad. Oh, they did have some actual college classes available, today. I think it was part of some sort of 'college fair' they do. Or, something."

"I know, and I wanted to take a class or two, but, I was caught up in some other things," M'gann said without turning away from her second batch she had been putting in the oven. She had learned to make two batches, now that the team was growing, and Wally seemed to eat most of the first, anyways. "Did you get to take any, Zatanna?"

"Yeah, actually. I took one on world religions?"

Faintly, they could hear the computer announce someone's entrance.

"World religions?" Wally garbled through a cookie. "Why'd you take that?"

Zatanna shrugged. "Why not? The visiting Professor was actually giving us a lecture on Judas Iscariot."

Heavy feet, slapping wetly against the floor halted at the doorway. "Judas Iscariot?"

The team greeted Kaldur enthusiastically mixed with gasps.

"What happened?" Superboy demanded, standing straighter, his fists tightening.

Kaldur waved them off, easing himself onto a chair, trying to ignore their stares at his bruises. "It was a minor skirmish, easily fended off."

"Dude," Wally seemingly just appeared right in front of him. "'Minor skirmishes that are easily taken care of' don't normally end in bruises _that_ deep on the good guys."

The Atlantean smiled fondly at the ginger. "Bruises that will heal." He reached for a cookie. "But, I'm curious about this 'Judas Iscariot.' I have heard variations of his name, but, why is he so important?"

Wally swallowed the last current bit of food. "You're kidding, right? You've never heard someone being called a 'Judas'? Even _I_ know why, and I don't have any interest in that stuff!"

"I have heard of it, but, I am not familiar with the connotation of the term."

"Well then," Zatanna beamed. "It's a good thing I just learned about it." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Okay, so, I think I got this. Have you heard of Jesus Christ?"

Kaldur nodded with a nearly amused look on his face.

"Good. Judas was one of Jesus' twelve disciples. I think he was the money keeper... Anyways, Jesus had some pretty high up enemies – the Pharisees is what he said – who wanted him out of the picture. So, they got a hold of Judas, offered him...thirty pieces of silver?" She bit her lip. "Something like that, to hand Jesus over to them. Judas took them up, led a bunch of soldiers to a garden that Jesus was praying in, so they could arrest him."

"Arrest him for what?"

The girl paused mid-reach for a cookie. "I have no idea. The professor didn't say. But, this guy had been with Jesus – followed him, for about three years. I mean, they _lived_ together. And for thirty pieces of silver, gives him up to his enemies to be crucified." She shook her head. "So much for loyalty."

Robin shifted in his seat again. The uncomfortable feeling was back. The one that made him feel like he was directly tied to what was being said. This was no good.

He cleared his throat. "So, Kaldur. Those bruises-that-will-heal. How, exactly, did you get them?"

Robin's smirk was toned way down, but the tactic worked. The subject was successfully changed, which helped him settle. He just wished he could pin point the feeling.

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**Yay, nay? Let me know! -Jimmy C.**


	13. Chapter 13

**This one's a shorty. I apologize to those who mind. :)**

** Guest2- So glad that's what I'm calling you, now. :) To be quite honest, Judas Iscariot was more of a way to explain the title. I wasn't sure how many people knew the word "Iscariot." Figured calling someone "Judas" was a little more common. Was it abrupt? I've been struggling with the endings... Also, glad you brought that up. Probably should start thinking about that...haha! Thanks!**

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Psimon kept the hood pulled low. He knew it looked a little too large – he could feel mild confusion and curiosity from some of the Gothamites he passed – but it hid his rather...unique features quite well.

He rather liked Gotham, he had decided. The residents didn't really greet you, and even in the higher end of the city fear lingered in the backs of their minds. He couldn't help but encourage the monsters that dwelt in the shadows of their imagination grow and move in some of the less defended minds.

A young woman – college age – gasped and quickened her pace while tightening her grip on her purse when Psimon suggested groping hands to her conscious. He grinned wolfishly, ducking his head.

The telepath stopped at a street corner, glancing at the names. Spotting an officer nearby, Psimon extended his mind. He groaned in disgust at the thoughts of this so-called "officer of the law." When people said Gotham's justice system was corrupt, they weren't kidding. This man had network upon network of dirty connections in his mind. Connections that would keep him "safe."

Images of the Bat filled the dark corners of his mind. Psimon lingered there. Small wonder the city's hero was dark and foreboding. He matched the city itself, instilling as much fear in those who strayed from the law as the city did to those who were innocent.

Psimon gathered his thoughts. He found the map he needed, and withdrew from the mind with ease, the officer none the wiser.

He was close, and within half-an-hour had arrived at his destination. Gotham Academy. Familiar psyches cemented that this was the place. But the one mind he was looking for – the boy's mind – wasn't there. It seemed that was Ra's had said was true.

"You are not supposed to be here."

Psimon instinctively spun around to see who spoke. "Talia al Ghul."

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Psimon sneered. "I heard you the first time. Did your father send you?"

"He did." Her face betrayed nothing, and barriers that were tall and strong guarded her every thought. "He knew you would come. Did you pick the mind of one of your pilot's?"

"I did. Is he dead, now?"

"Of course. You ought to know that no one in the League of Shadows fails so miserably without serious consequences. Our mission is far too great for such imbecilic actions to be tolerated."

"Right." Psimon bit off, smiling with a false sense of security. "Your mission."

Talia's face tensed, her eyes hardening. "Do not mock it, Psimon. You are but a pawn in my father's plans."

He spat at her feet. "I am not his pawn. I never have been, nor will I ever be."

She smiled calmly. "So you think." She turned to walk away. "Leave this place, Psimon. Or you will find consequences that face you with the ferocity of your own curiosity."

Psimon glared after her. However, he listened. He was not such a fool as to play games with Ra's or his daughter. Given the right circumstances, he could leave them all reeling, their minds playing tricks on them, making them delusional with hopes or fears that kept them from the real world. For the al Ghul's, however, such circumstances were hard to come by. Psimon would have to think of something else.

He began to leave the school behind. He had no plans for it, and there would be no reason for him to return. Knowing where he had been all these times, Psimon realized that the mind he had been using must have belonged to Robin. But, who was behind that mask?

He had briefly brushed across the Principle's mind, reviewing a small list of names that had been expelled recently. Patrick Wesley, Richard Grayson, Stanley Bradford, Rebecca Ellis. A short list, the last of which was easily crossed out.

Psimon passed a newspaper and magazine stand. He saw with a glance that Dick Grayson was one of the stories, but, he ignored it. He looked up at Wayne Tower. The possibility was there. The possibility was always there. Yet, he knew of the reputation of playboys and millionaires. It didn't really add up. He walked on without seeing what the story was.

Psimon realized that being expelled wasn't the only reason Robin could have been pulled. There were other reasons. Batman could have caught on to something being wrong with his little birdy. As much as it pained Psimon to think about it, that was very much a possibility and probability. Batman, he had discovered, was much like Ra's and Talia al Ghul in that he, too, was well defended against a telepathic metahuman.

As it was, he knew where to find the mind again. With that young team of sidekicks. He smiled. They were fun. Too much fun. Except for that Martian girl. Psimon would have to be careful around her.

His steps quickened. That was fine. He could do that.

A man screamed at nothing opposite the street.

Psimon smirked. These were warm-up stretches. With his thoughts connecting, building and weaving amongst themselves, Psimon kept thinking. He knew what he could do. He simply had to act on it.

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**Short, short. Dunno how I feel about this one. Psimon's a bit of a challenge that I'm struggling to master. Review, por favor! -Jimmy C.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Oh my word. Guys I am so sorry this is late! Alas! This is the sad reason I do not write multichapter stories on this site. Also sorry, I'm having my brother text this note to my sister who will then type it onto the chapter which she is uploading for you now because I am driving states away from mine home and computer.**

Anyways, I've actually had this chapter written for a while but was hoping to get the next chapter written and finish the story. Unfortunately, I have not been able to do this yet. My goal is, however, to finish this story - I do not like to keep things unfinished.

Please enjoy.  


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Dick grabbed a cookie from the tray as soon as he finished relating the recent events to J'onn. He hadn't told Alfred that he had already had some cookies at the Mountain; though he had a feeling that the Butler didn't care today about his sweets intake. To be quite honest about it, the boy didn't really want anything. He had simply grabbed it to ease the silence that followed suit.

The Martian before him had a hand covering his mouth, his eyes lowered as he thought – a decidedly human trait. Batman stood to the side, between his protege and his fellow Leaguer.

Dick glanced at his watch, noting the time. Then he glanced at Batman, who gave no response. He had come home from the cave rather late – though in plenty time for patrol – to find that Martian Manhunter had joined his mentor in the Batcave. Or, rather, had _come with_ his mentor to the Batcave.

_The clock keeps ticking_, Dick mused. Yet, Batman didn't give a solitary sign that he was ready for patrol.

The boy grabbed another cookie. This was definitely serious. He took a drink of milk. And it certainly didn't ease his fears.

J'onn finally moved. "May I look into your mind?"

He nodded. He wanted – _needed_, this mystery to be solved.

"What are you looking for?" Batman asked.

The Martian met his gaze before moving toward Dick. "Bread crumbs. And, further insight."

"Wait," Dick said, holding up his hands. "Bread crumbs? Like, a trail of someone else's mind?"

"Yes. M'gann mentioned-"

"Megan thinks someone else has been in my mind, and didn't think to mention it to me?" His voice started to pitch.

"Dick." Batman laid a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. She didn't know what to think."

Blue eyes looked pleadingly into the mask's white. But, he obeyed. "Yeah, I know." He looked back at J'onn. "What do you mean by 'further insight'?"

Manhunter nodded. "It intrigues me that your most prevalent memory is of your parents."

Dick almost laughed, and he could see Batman react with his own subtle surprise. "Why is that intriguing? They were kind of a big deal in my life."

"My apologies-"

"None needed." Dick smiled his easy smile. They weren't needed.

Again, J'onn nodded in acknowledgment. "Simply that it was the mention of your parents, and the memories that correspond, that brought you out of your haze. On Mars, it is common for young children to remember a time or event that gives them strong emotions that will cause disruption and abuse of their telepathic and telekinetic powers."

"You mean, like Megan in the training session?"

J'onn seemed surprised at the ease in his voice. "Precisely. Though, with M'gann – and other Martians – the emotion plunged her deeper into the mental exercise." He smiled a tiny smile. "I suppose, with humans, it is different, since it served only to remove you from the telepathic grip."

Dick nodded. "Seems important to make a note of it, then."

"It does," J'onn said. He lifted his hands. "May I?"

"Sure." Dick closed his eyes, feeling the cooler fingers of the Martian touch his head.

This was a much different feeling than when the team was linked up. At first, Dick wondered if it was simply the difference in who the mind was.

_Only a little._ He felt J'onn's smile.

_What's the rest?_ Dick always like multitasking. Which, for him, meant doing one thing while talking up a storm. Or, that's what Lucius Fox would say.

_The rest is my combing your memory, thought patterns, and, in a way, your brain waves._

_You can do that?_

There was that deep, chuffing chuckle. _Yes. Now be quiet, your thoughts are cluttering up my work._

_That's unfortunate._ Dick tried not to laugh. _But, there's not much else for me to do._

_Yes there is. Think about the day you beat your classmate._

With heavy, but brief, hesitation, Dick did as he was told. It was a little strange, though, noting that it was slightly relieving to find that communicating his minimal memories was so much easier. It made him feel...lighter.

_Very good. Just a little while longer-_

Suddenly, it ended. Dick cried out in pain – or, he thought it was pain. It was sharp, it was abrupt, it lurched him out of J'onn's touch. It hurt, but it was painless.

His eyes flew open, the lights sharpened, and Batman nearly shouted his name, but it was blurry and dim. Through his blinking eyes, he could see J'onn several feet away, a hand to his head, slouched and swaying.

Though, maybe it was Dick who was swaying. The room felt odd to him, and he wasn't sitting fully on the chair beneath him. His hand groped around for something to steady himself by.

He felt Batman's gloved hand grip his forearm, and he could sense the man talking, but he may as well have been deaf.

And then everything came back.

"Dick, are you alright?"

The boy blinked again. "Y-yeah, I think so."

Batman nodded curtly before turning away. "J'onn?"

The Martian didn't reply.

The Dynamic duo watched him for a moment, and then Batman walked to his friend. "J'onn?"

Manhunter responded to the hand on his shoulder, standing straighter, breathing with a heaviness. "I am fine."

"What happened?" Batman demanded.

J'onn answered, "It was a barrier. A very strong one."

Dick paled as he said, "You mean someone put some sort of fortress around my head to keep you from getting to the bottom of things?"

"I am afraid so. I must apologize, I did not suspect such a thing. Mental attacks among humans are so often easily mistaken for something else, few, who have these powers and skills, hide themselves in the mind of their victim."

"Awesome," Dick muttered. Sitting back up, he nodded. "Alright, let's go."

J'onn leaned forward, and Batman stood nearer than before.

This time, J'onn allowed his conscious to come in tendrils. Slowly, gingerly, like a cat approaching its human, wary of movement and curious of action.

Dick winced as the barrier was approached. Pain blossomed easily, but the boy was prepared – and so was the Martian. J'onn halted his advance, letting the pain become a mere presence. When it did, both could almost 'see' it. A massive fortress with thick walls and soaring, solid towers.

_What's up, J'onn? I'm as comfortable with this as I'm gonna get._

Dick felt the sense of looking up. _I am unsure of how to proceed. There is no proverbial door._

_No problem._ Dick was confident. _Is there a way to solidify this?_

_Yes..._

_Great! _Dick's sheer force of will pulled J'onn along into the scheme. He _had_ to get past this fortress.

The image grew deeper, grasping onto footholds in his mind. The acrobat soon found himself standing on solid nothing, looking up at the wall scrutinizing every inch. J'onn suddenly appeared by his side, gazing up with him.

"_We got this."_

J'onn looked down. _"I am glad you have such confidence, however, I am unsure of the wisdom of this plan."_

Dick turned fully toward him, grinning. _"Dude. Story of my life. According to Alfred. And probably Bruce." _He turned back to the wall. _"Alrighty, then. As long as we stay whelmed, we'll be fine."_ He glanced between the fortress and the Martian. _"Hey, if this fortress was made out of thought, could you manipulate it?"_

"_Without hurting you, I cannot do much in the way of doing anything to it."_

"_But, there's a chance that you can manipulate it."_

"_Yes."_

"_Great! Gimme footholds."_

J'onn looked down at the boy. _"Footholds?"_

"_Yeah, for climbing. The way I see it, if thought made it, it may not be destroyed, but, it can be manipulated. And, if it's in my head, then what's keeping it from allowing _me_ to scale it?"_ At this point, Dick was leaning slightly forward, rocked back on his heels, hands on his hips, grinning wildly.

J'onn smiled back. _"For one without telepathic abilities, you are certainly insightful."_

"_Like the big man says, think like the situation." _Dick cackled.

Manhunter braced himself, hands outstretched, putting his whole being on concentrating on the wall. The pain came out of its mere presence state, though it wasn't as strong. Both could feel it's effects, though they ignored it in favor of watching the wall.

Bricks moved, trembling, coming out or pushing back in. Some slid from side to side, and large beams protruded from the wall, like blunt stakes. It was over quickly. Rumbling sounded through the air, dimly sounding like a clap of thunder.

"_Good work. Where'd the beams come from?"_

J'onn leaned on his knees, exhausted from the effort, but optimistic. _"You said manipulate. I manipulated."_

Dick smirked, and cackled again. _"Way to feel the aster. Well, I would say it's time to make yourself small, perch yourself on my shoulder, and I'll get us up there."_

J'onn levitated while his form changed smoothly into a spider, delicately resting himself on Dick's shoulder.

The boy tried not to shudder. _"Well, I was hoping from something a little less creepy, but, I guess that'll do the job."_

He took a running start to the wall, flipping forward to land on his feet, only to launch himself right up to take hold of the first stone. Pulling himself up, Dick spotted his next mark, leaping from the stone to a beam.

He swung under the beam, pulling his legs up straight, flying through the air only to bend and twist gracefully to an upright position, his hand finding a hole, his feet another jutted out stone. Dick took this moment to check on his progress, on J'onn, and to catch his breath.

He wasn't half-way up, but he had certainly gained some height. Another clap of thunder sounded, and his head jerked up. _"J'onn, can it rain?"_

"_No,"_ J'onn said, surprisingly easy to hear. _"I think it may be someone speaking."_

"_Who?"_

The walls suddenly shook violently. There was more thunder – or shouting, Dick couldn't tell. Everything started to sway, and his hand began to lose it's grip.

"_J'onn!"_

There was no answer.

"_J'onn?!" _Dick glanced at his shoulder, but there was no spider.

The fortress started to fade, and he was on the verge of falling through. The boy pressed himself against it harder, closing his eyes to concentrate. He couldn't fall. He _couldn't_ fall.

_Hold on, hold on!_ He silently ordered himself.

But the wall was getting thinner, and the falling sensation started.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! Don't forget to review.  
****-Jimmy C.  
**


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